The Awful Waffle

"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "What is the first thing you ask yourself?"

"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh.  "What do you say Piglet?"

"I say, I wonder what is going to happen exciting today." said Piglet.

Pooh nodded thoughtfully.  "It's the same thing," he said.

~ AA Milne

Yesterday's post about Cracker Barrel should be enough for you to realize that our family of Trendy Travelers fears not when it comes to eating on the road.  But that was Cracker Barrel.  Other than risking life and limb sitting under combines, plows and other assorted farm equipment, there isn't too much to worry about when you eat there.  So, for those of you who desire more adventurous eating adventures on the road, I submit today's Road Trip Food for Thought.


Last summer, the kids and I drove out to Regent University in Virginia Beach, VA for conference.  All the kids except Butterfly, who, after several months last year traveled the US and lived out of a suitcase (a SMALL suitcase), has vowed never to travel with more than 6 people for more than 500 miles again in her life.  Ever. No matter how big the vehicle is.   She flew back east before us to help prepare for the conference and  then met us at Regent.

It was a wonderful conference and I look forward to attending again this summer...but I had an experience unlike any other and that commentary has to come before I write about anything else.  While the conference itself was exciting, informational and fun, breakfast on the first morning after the conference was something I cannot keep to myself.

That morning, for the first time in my life...I experienced the phenomenon known as 

The Waffle House.

Perhaps you have seen these establishments before.  They are small restaurants that appear more frequently at every single freeway exit, on both sides of the freeway, the further east you go.  For example, in Colorado we have a Waffle House about every 4th or 5th freeway exit on one side of the freeway.  By the time you reach Tennessee, there are 3 to 4 Waffle Houses on EACH SIDE of the freeway at every single exit...usually right next to the Cracker Barrel.  

While Waffle Houses are everywhere, I had never been to one. I had never even MET anyone who had eaten at one.  Then I went to Tennessee in the summer of 2011.  I stayed with my friend, and her charming father spent a bit of time with us as well while we visited.  He always came over in the morning, but he never ate breakfast with us.  He had already eaten at the local Waffle House.  In fact, he ate at the Waffle House most every morning he proudly told us.  

So as I remembered my friend's father eating at a Waffle House every morning, I bravely thought, "How can you mess up breakfast?" and we made our way to the yellow hut.

If you have never eaten at the Waffle House, I need to tell you that you are missing a unique breakfast experience that has nothing to do with food!  

Upon our arrival, Sandra (names have been changed to protect the ignorant) greeted our party of 7.  She seemed to have difficulty counting past one handful of fingers because I THINK she then asked us how many were in our party but it was hard to tell through the whistling sound of air passing through the blank spaces in her mouth where her teeth should have been.  In any case, The Waffle House was bustling with all kinds of interesting patronage and Sandra eventually did enough math to know she had to seat our party at two different tables.  

As we sat,  Kevin asked CynThia if she would like the opportunity to serve us.  She naturally answered, "Not really," because our tables were separated by one table.  At this point, I need to explain the layout of our Waffle House.  There were three booths all in a row and CynThia stands behind the counter that is behind all three booths to take the order.  Therefore, instead of taking ONE step to take an order, she would actually have to take two and that seemed to be more than poor CynThia could handle this morning.  So, Kevin was the chosen wait staff for our two booths.

Kahuna, Lizard Boy, Spidey and I waited a long time for Kevin to take our order.  This was awkward, because, the set-up of the Waffle House means Kevin was standing right in front of us on the other side of our booth.  He seemed to be avoiding eye contact.  Finally, he set some coffee cups down and said he would be right with us.  Then he added, "I am trying to find some clean silverware somewhere around here."  HUH?  This begged a whole new answer to my original, simple question, "How can you mess up breakfast?"

As we awaited "clean" silverware (and I use that term, oh SO loosely), I looked around at the rest of the greasy spoon.  I lost hope of ever seeing clean silverware. Sandra kept leaving her trash can at everyone's table and forgetting where it was.  I found this amusing since the Waffle House only has about 6 tables in it.  Then she left the trash can near our table.That wasn't so amusing.  The waffle irons sported caked on, baked on "dark waffle" batter.  And Jocelyn assured me I did NOT want to see their back room which she kept getting a good view of when the workers on break would throw out another carton of hash browns to the waiters.

I never did find out what a dark waffle was.  Honestly, I was afraid to ask.  Waffle House has its own lingo and I couldn't tell what ANYONE was eating.  CynThia was just standing behind the counter barking out demands for dark waffles, hash browns that were scattered, smothered, covered and diced, while Kevin pleaded for hash browns "all in a ring".  While my brain was busy trying to decipher how a dive like this made enough money to bribe the health inspector to overlook the lack of clean silverware and anything else clean, my boys were thrilling to the aroma of their waffles and bacon!  Lizard Boy said the waffles smelled and tasted like marshmallows, and he meant that in a good way.  I put aside my reservations and tried to see things through my niece's eyes.  She thinks it would be "fun" to work there.

In the end, we were well fed.  The boys were never happier over eating breakfast out.  And I remembered something I wish I would have thought of when we were making our morning meal plans.  And that is:

My friend's dad, who eats at one of the little yellow diners most every morning, affectionately referred to the Waffle House as the Awful Waffle.  He got a biscuit and gravy for a buck (maybe he is the health inspector and that is the bribe.  I don't know).  And my friend?....She and her husband make moonshine in their bathtub.  I probably should have taken all those things into account and found an IHOP, where the classy people go for breakfast.

I will try that next time because right now, I

Gotta Mosey!