The road taught me fast that “just one more exit” is the most dangerous phrase a pancake lover can say with a straight face.
Over a few happily obsessive weeks, I crisscrossed California on backroads and side streets, dodging big chains and chasing mom-and-pop diners that still treat breakfast like a sacred neighborhood ritual.
Some stops felt timeless in that soothing way, with menus that change at the speed of a snail on a coffee break and regulars who seem permanently assigned to the same booth…