We’re here at flap-Jacks just outside of Indianapolis. It’s a local chain and the menu is quite extensive. I took a few shots to illustrate.
Yes, they do offer Freedom Fries and Freedom Toast (listed under the French Toast section, ironically). I ordered French toast, which was good but could have used a pound less butter. Nathan got the 2 eggs with ham, flapjacks and grits. The flapjacks were good. The ham was odd. He didn’t comment on the eggs, but how do you mess up eggs. The weirdest part of the meal was the huge bowl of “grits.”
I put “grits” in quotes because these were unlike any grits I have ever tasted. They were smooth and kind of sweet and arrived with a small container of brown sugar. This ain’t your mamma’s grits. I was reminded of a time back in college when my friend Mindy and I were making dinner with our boyfriends. Mindy was in charge of the mashed potatoes. She boiled a bunch of little red potatoes and then put them in a giant bowl with butter. That’s about how we make them until… She broke out the hand held milkshake blender and smoothed those puppies out. They became sweet and gooey and too weird for me. Anyway, imagine that with tiny little dots of over-cooked grits.
We could have ordered them fried. That would be “mush.”
