Fluffy Fluffy Dessert Cafe slings Japanese souffle pancakes to Orlando's food obsessives

You might have to play the waiting game at Fluffy Fluffy, the international house of souffle pancakes that's beating the city's food obsessives into stiff peaks of submission. When I see an excitable group of iPhone-toting 20-somethings taking pics of their prized and poofy possessions, I can't help but ask how long they waited.

"Forty minutes."

"Forty minutes?!"

"Yeah, but that was after we stood in line for 15 minutes."

Damn, that's 55 minutes, thinks my beautiful, incredulous mind, but the only pattern my inner John Nash can decipher inside this bright, spartan space is that everyone is waiting, myself included. Nothing to do but continue playing the game, I think to myself and approach a couple of college-aged chaps at the counter.

"How long were you guys waiting for?" (I noticed they'd just finished their hotcakes.)

"An hour," says one, wiping his mouth. When I ask if it was worth the wait, the response is immediate. "The food is fire, yo! But I'm not waiting an hour for this again."

His friend concurs. "Maybe five minutes, but not an hour." Meanwhile the line grows out the door, and I notice others sitting on the ledge outside waiting for their orders. But much to my surprise, I hear my number being called.

"Don't get too excited," says the guy who made the drive from Gainesville sitting at the counter. "It's just your drink."

He's right. I take my brown maple shaken espresso ($6) and survey the room. There are some tables to the right, a couple of booths to the left and a whole mess of people in the middle, which kinda kills the vibe. I have my eyes on one of the seats at the fully packed counter, but it's not looking good. Moments later, the group of 20-somethings get up to leave and I take the opportunity to pose the same question to them.

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photo by Rob Bartlett

Japanese souffle pancakes at Fluffy Fluffy Dessert Cafe

"Was it worth the wait?"

The responses are circumspect. "Mmm, I think so," says one. "Yes," says another, then adds, "but only once. I wouldn't do it again."

By now I've sipped the last of my beverage. I strike up a conversation in the corner of the restaurant with the man from Gainesville to wait it out. I mention that while he's here, he may as well check out Bakery 1908 across the street, but not to expect wait times to be any better. When he picks up his order of tiramisu souffle pancakes ($14.99), he generously offers to share it with me.

The double-stacked pancakes were indeed fluffy-fluffy, with a creamy tiramisu topping, fresh berries and chocolate sauce. I was a sucker for it. The man from Gainesville? Not so much. Admittedly, he came for the buzz surrounding the place. I enjoy the buzz off the perfectly sweet, eggy pancake.

When I get my order, I take a bite of the matcha burnt-top cheesecake ($5.99) first. The Basque specialty, made famous at La Viña in San Sebastián, Spain, is fused with Japanese flavors here, and it's an indulgence I'd order time and time again. I only take one bite of the cheesecake, though, seeing as I also have the "Fruit Forest" ($14.99) souffle pancakes before me. Like the tiramisu option, they're in the top-priced tier (there are pancakes offered at $12.99 and $13.99 as well), but these bouncy little buggers are topped with all the berries, kiwi and banana. There's a light whipped cream on top and a side of maple syrup — actual maple syrup, which I appreciate. Fluffy Fluffy is a Canadian operation, after all, and I'd expect nothing less than real maple syrup from this Toronto-based outfit.

BTW: In Canada, France and China, the chain is known as Fuwa Fuwa, which is Japanese for "Fluffy Fluffy" — Japanese because the souffle pancake trend evidently started in Japan. In England and the United States, it's called Fluffy Fluffy; the Orlando outpost is the first in the nation, and here croffles (croissant waffles), macarons and sorbets are also on the menu.

Nevertheless, after finishing my pancakes, I pose myself the same question — was it worth the wait? No, I wouldn't wait an hour for pancakes again, souffle or otherwise, but I also don't expect the wait to be this long after the buzz dies down. Just know that the restaurant's scratch-based methods combined with longer, low-temperature cook times means that it could take up to 20 minutes to receive your pancakes, no matter what — those KitchenAid stand mixers in the kitchen seem to be aerating egg whites (along with cream of tartar) into meringues around the clock.

And speaking of clocks, the deadline to order pancakes is 7:40 p.m., or 20 minutes before close. Miss it and it's goodbye, eggy blonde, goodbye.