Zionist Pancakes

H/T: Hochma Umusar

The following excerpt records a Proust-moment taken from the chronicles of Ehav Ever, a racist colonialist western Zionist settler from America:

PANCAKES! Truly, it was a blessing that by chance I decided to go to that resturant. What joy as I sat waiting for the yummy goodness. They even had banana pancakes. Yet, the true test was the taste. One bite and a wave of emotions overflowed as I remembered my youth, with my mother making those gold cakes on the griddle and log cabin syrp (I have completely forgotten how to spell it) glistening in the sun light.

So as I ate my pancakes with salad on the side. Life took on a whole new meaning. Zion took on a whole new meaning. Truly this is my home, in the Land of Israel, the holy land, in Jerusalem, the holy city, and there are pancakes. I now miss nothing, I lack nothing, and the light of heaven has shone down on me for I have partaken in Israeli holy pancakes and thus there was joy across the land stride.