After a day and night of deep sleep recovering from the trip, no eats, I felt the need for a served breakfast. Omellete, hash browns and a short side of pancakes or waffles.

In my immediate neighborhood, there was only one place I knew that served that, so I toddled over at 3 in the afternoon, and asked for the above.

The difference was in the detail. The hash-browns were cut a little finer (and a little burnt), and the omellette had more vegetables than what I was used to having on the east coast. It also cost 50 percent more, but oh well.

As I chewed on the pancakes, I noticed there was a tangy sour taste.

So, I called the waiter over...

"Are these pancakes made from sourdough?"
"Mmm, we use the same flour as what we use for the biscuits."

The buscuits have a little sour taste to it.

Oy. Are sweetly bland pancakes too much to ask?

Yeah, now I know why the SF mayor's ex-wife, who is a native New Yorker, prefers to live in NYC.

The details can be a tough adjustment.