Man. Jes’ walked up here to the south side of Mission Valley. From Old Town.

I don’t advise it. No sidewalks! I crab-walked around the bluff below the presidio. No space for anything but crazy cars. You feel like a foot-soldier caught in a tank battle.

Finally made it to civilization, and first thing I see is this big sign. “Ricky’s.” And “World-Famous Apple Pancake.” Oh yeah. I came here last time I tried this cliff-hanger walk.

I stumble up the steps. It’s an eatery tailor-made for the hotel-motel-office land here. Comfortable, unchanging, fifties feel. But you kinda like it at the same time. One wall’s a massive painting of downtown seen from the water.

Waitress, Marivel, brings the menu. Oh man. Tempted by the apple pancake, ’cause they say it’s way different than apple pie. It’s, like puffy, soufflé’d. Oh yes, I tried it last time. It was huge and great. And exactly, they say, what the Founding Fathers ate, back in the day.

Factors against: It’s $10.95 now. And it takes 20 minutes to bake. Dang. Got to be somewhere in ten minutes. I grab a coffee ($2.50).

Then Alvy, who got the pie for me last time, comes up. He’s been here six years, like Marivel. “Nothing’s changed,” he says. “Except some prices, up a dollar.”

I promise I’ll be back for the apple pancake. This time before it goes up another buck.

Pictures: Ricky's from outside; Alvy; Marivel