I love pancakes. I loved in the guesthouse in Nairobi that Florence would make pancakes for breakfast at least twice a week. In my hotel in Addis there are usually pancakes; they're more like crepes and you get two thin ones on a plate with syrup. For some reason, they're always cold, but that's ok. The problem is, because there are only two and they're very thin, it really only takes a minute to devour them and I don't feel particularly full afterwards.
Today is Saturday. There's no lunch in the office on Saturday, so we thought we'd be strategic and order some extra pancakes to get us through the day. By the time I got to the hotel restaurant, my colleague S had already had her 2 pancakes, so she was going to order another 2. I thought 4 thin pancakes was the best way to go. So we asked the waiter for an extra 2 for S, and 4 for me. He came back a few minutes to clarify, and we said the same thing.
45 minutes later, a massive stack of pancakes was presented to me. There were about 13 pancakes on the plate. It made no sense. Well, it kind of made sense - we soon realised that he'd thought I'd meant that I wanted 4 orders of 2 pancakes...but I definitely had more than 8 on my plate. While we thought this was quite hilarious, it was nothing compared to the staff who thought we were absolutely crazy. I palmed off half of my stack to J and made my way through the rest as best I could. There was no way I was sending any back to the kitchen, so we sheepishly had to ask for a take away container.
There is a take away container now sitting in the middle of the conference room table; none of us can bring ourselves to look at it. Pancake coma....