Toward the end of my Flo’s Cafe column on the women in the back who do all the baking, the pair said their bread pudding was something special. In print I expressed the desire to go back and try it sometime.
Well, three friends corraled me into hitting Flo’s with them for a Friday lunch, to be followed by bread pudding. (It’s made on alternate Thursdays; banana pudding is made the other weeks.) So we made the trek to Flo’s, the one at the Chino Airport, on Merrill Avenue just east of Euclid Avenue.
I’ll say upfront that I can take bread pudding or leave it. The Flo’s version was tasty, though, and we agreed the bread was chewy, not soppy, and not too sweet. We asked the waitress how it’s made, and she said the bread is actually the bakers’ housemade cinnamon rolls. How about that?
Incidentally, the manager and I exchanged a wave from across the room midway through lunch. My guess is that she told our waitress that the writer of the Flo’s column was at the table. I say this because as my retired friend Ken, who had bantered with her throughout the meal, paid the tab at the register, she told him, “That was a great article you did on us, and I liked your column a couple of days ago too.” He had to tell her the writer was the guy standing over there.
I suppose she naturally assumed the writer must be the witty guy, not the quiet guy. Not the first time that’s happened to your shy scribe. Oh well, as long as she likes my column…