The only logical explanation for how good this place is is that their inch-thick buttermilk pancakes are actually crafted by the hands of breakfast deities and their omelettes are stuffed by brunch warlocks. No mortal can make food like that. We’re onto you, Aretha.
Just try to walk past Clumpies on Northshore and ignore the overpowering scent of fresh waffle cones luring you inside to grab a scoop of Mayan spice chocolate or Tutti Frutti littered with Pop-Rocks. We dare you.