I can remember, a couple of decades back, the first time that I ate Swedish Pancakes. It was at the International House of Pancakes (IHOP) in Lake Tahoe, California. I remember how much I loved the tartness of the lingonberries, mixed with the whipped butter. There is an IHOP in my hometown, but it's one that I avoid. Suffice it to say that my few experiences at that location had more unpleasant memories of sticky seats, poor service and my germophobia kicked in to high gear.
Last November, I discovered a restaurant across from the hotel where I stayed in San Francisco. According to the reviews, their signature dish is their Swedish Pancakes. My blogger friend, Monica, and I eagerly ordered a plate of the pancakes.