JAMIE’S PLACE FOR STUFF

A Stroll Though Memory, Time and Politics With Stops Along The Way

  • Waffling Around

    All right! I was spoiled! I admit it! Waffles are not made by just adding water. They aren’t! They aren’t! They aren’t! Waffles are served on Sunday. You sit down at a table with flowers in the middle and drink your fresh squeezed orange juice while awaiting the batter to fill the waffle iron warming for the great arrival.

    Now about that batter. You can cheat a bit and use Bisquick if you must, but I better not see a whole egg just dumped in there as if it didn’t matter. I mean REALLY!!! What kind of barbarian would do such a thing. Milk, egg yolks, oil, Bisquick in one bowl and egg whites in another. Blend the first bowl together and then whip the second bowl to nice dry peaks. Fold the egg whites gently into the batter so that it is air-filled and fluffy.

    Now if you happen to have an old fashioned waffle iron, the best way to get it ready for the batter is to butter a piece of bread on both sides cooked first. This makes “waffle toast”, a kind of variation on southern “fried bread”. A good piece of waffle toast is a luxury unknown to an age worried about such things as weight, cholesterol, and other insidious adverse things that come from the consumption of bread and butter. Oh go ahead. It’s once a week. Moderation in all things including moderation.

    Now you may make the waffle. This takes practice unless you have one of those machines that gives you a green light. Beware! The light lies. It gives you squishy waffles. You can end up with a waffle that is half in the top and half in the bottom … torn to shreds … disaster. A waffle should be whole, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, and easily lifted from the iron. This now brings us to the syrup. You are using pure maple aren’t you? NO???? My God! Were you raised by wolves?

    So there it is on your plate. Something that took real time to prepare. A perfect treat to start a restful day. Lightly buttered, Beautifully drenched in syrup … a confection of perfection … The Waffle.

    Then again – There’s always Sunday brunch and mimosas.

    But you know I couldn’t leave you without a song about a different kind of “waffle”:

About Me

Retired great grandmother living in Washington. Former radio Public Service Director and National Accounts Manager.

I’m a hair-dishevelled heilan’ coo,
Hamish McKay be ma name;
Welcome tae this dreichet glen
I’m cursed tae ca’ ma hame.
Depending on the mood I’m in
I’ll raise ma horns on high,
An’ if I like the look o’ ye
I’ll likely let ye by.
But should I dinnae like the look
O’ ye, then tak great care,
I’ll raise ma horns on high again,
Go on, get oot o’there!
So whether welcome yae or nae,
I’ll raise these horns sae mean,
Then ye shall ken ma meaning
By the twinkle o’ ma een.

Courtesy of
MARION GRAY Wollaton Road Wollaton Park Nottingham

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