Puffy golden blog entry
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Out of a clear blue sky (figuratively speaking — it’s actually gray and cloudy today), I suddenly have a craving for waffles.
Nothing really to add to that. I just thought that sharing tender moments like that was what blogging was all about.
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The debate in our family is over who cooks them. Growing up, it was my Mom. Now it’s me, and my wife insists that’s the way it was supposed to be: Dads cook the fun breakfast food. Okay, so it looks like I’m stuck. But I can’t cook a Krispy Kreme.
mmmmm…waffles! Waffle House. Double pecan. It doesn’t get any better, except my mother’s waffles made in the old chrome rectangular thing with the little red light on top.
.…well, on second thought Krispy Kreme might trump mom’s waffles, actually.…
Ummm, dohhhh-nuts…
We went ahead and had the waffles on Monday. (By a coincidence too weird to even blog about, Greg suddenly piped up outta nowhere and said he had a craving for waffles(!!)) And I’m with you — there are some totally great waffles that I remember, and these ones weren’t quite up to that. But by a happy happenstance, some friends gave us a waffle iron for our wedding present that is the same type my mom had. And that just makes any waffle taste better.