Miracle of miracles, what could be better than a real Saturday? By real, I mean getting the magical phone call from Mr. Peoples Gas Company (jarring, since it was at the crack of dawn, but fantastic nevertheless), having the gas actually turned back on (no more Little House on the Prairie!), having Matthew here (and not at work! Say what?), and, as a return-to-Saturday-life breakfast celebration, having waffles. You know, the most Saturday-y thing to eat. Waffles. Better than pancakes, better than french toast! Holes to catch bits of things! A funny-looking machine to use! And, best of all, seriously easy to make.
The waffle iron that we used to have was made, I think, in 1502. It looked something like this:
No, I'm not kidding. Was it charming? Ah, yes. Practical? Not so much. It was in my family for years, and I remember when I was a kid and my grandfather, the ever-crafty and handy one, reconfigured it with a new electrical cord to replace what had become a dangerous-looking, sort-of-shredded cord. Suddenly, good as new! Magic. He was the kind of guy who could fix or build anything, the kind of guy you really want to have around, and the kind of guy you would really want to have for a neighbor (or as a relative -- lucky me!). We used this waffle iron while I was growing up, and I'm sure it made many outstanding waffles in its heyday. Although, in the end of its life, things weren't so pretty. It wasn't such a handy machine when it came to live with its auntie in the big city. Revolt? Rebellion? Antiquity? Pain and confusion about still having to make waffles when it was 80, 90 years old? I'm not sure. All I know is, this waffle iron nearly killed us both.
Matthew's expression when he first saw the waffle iron was priceless.
Questions were as follows:
+Wait, so what is that?
+We own that?
+So, it's like, a decoration?
+We're going to use it?
+Are you sure?
+Are you sure it still works?
+Aren't you nervous about using this thing?
+Are you sure it's, um, safe?
No, I'm not kidding. Was it charming? Ah, yes. Practical? Not so much. It was in my family for years, and I remember when I was a kid and my grandfather, the ever-crafty and handy one, reconfigured it with a new electrical cord to replace what had become a dangerous-looking, sort-of-shredded cord. Suddenly, good as new! Magic. He was the kind of guy who could fix or build anything, the kind of guy you really want to have around, and the kind of guy you would really want to have for a neighbor (or as a relative -- lucky me!). We used this waffle iron while I was growing up, and I'm sure it made many outstanding waffles in its heyday. Although, in the end of its life, things weren't so pretty. It wasn't such a handy machine when it came to live with its auntie in the big city. Revolt? Rebellion? Antiquity? Pain and confusion about still having to make waffles when it was 80, 90 years old? I'm not sure. All I know is, this waffle iron nearly killed us both.
Matthew's expression when he first saw the waffle iron was priceless.
Questions were as follows:
+Wait, so what is that?
+We own that?
+So, it's like, a decoration?
+We're going to use it?
+Are you sure?
+Are you sure it still works?
+Aren't you nervous about using this thing?
+Are you sure it's, um, safe?
I'm sure I replied with something flippant, like "Duh, it obviously still works! Why else would I have it?"And then we used it. It took a long time to heat up that first time. Like, maybe an hour. Then, when it was hot, it did do a pretty good job making the waffles, but we were ready for lunch by then and not quite as interested anymore.
The second time we used it, it heated up faster, but burned the hell out of the waffles after the batter had been inside for 6 seconds. Smoke. Charbroiled waffles. A rather funny breakfast.
The third time (why did we let there be a third time, anyway?), the whole apparatus smoked an unnatural amount, creating a cloud of vicious smoke in the kitchen, and sparks flew out of the cord and landed on a towel, where they had a mini-fire and I had a panic attack. After all that, the batter wasn't even cooked. Following that episode, I asked my mother for permission to stop owning the waffle iron. She granted it. We were waffle-iron-free! Matthew had been right. As usual. He's so smart! It should have been a decoration. Or, better yet, it should have been a permanent visitor to an antique store. One day I will start listening to him, I swear.
After all this drama, Matthew got me a brand new, 21st century waffle iron that has been useful and not dangerous. We've used it 4 or 5 times so far, and no one has been injured. I see it in the cabinet and groan because it takes up so much space, and it's a royal pain to clean, but I still love it, and it makes me happy. Pour the batter in, wait for an undetermined amount of time, and, eventually, you have a waffle! Our waffle iron is a little basic -- as in, when you plug it in, that's what turns it on. It has a red light and a green light that both light up when this happens, and both lights stay on the whole time it's plugged in. Clearly they are just decorative (it's a Christmas toy!), although I imagine someone at the factory wanted them to actually have a function, and it just didn't quite work out.
The waffle iron does its job though, and, really, when you are itchin' for a waffle, you don't care how much space the contraption has been taking up in your kitchen. The waffles I made yesterday were of the peanut butter persuasion, which may make you nervous, but you should not be! The peanut butter flavor just comes through really gently and not obnoxiously -- and you could use almond butter, or sunflower butter, or any of those other wacky alternative-butters; I've found that the recipe works just as well and just as deliciously with many of them. The pecans are just because I have a fondness for such things. In waffles, they always remind me of the pecan waffles at Waffle House, which is a very happy sort of thing. You should push this recipe around a bit, and try some different things. The core of the recipe is a terrific base for any sort of add-ins, so you can have any kind of waffle adventure that you can dream of.
The second time we used it, it heated up faster, but burned the hell out of the waffles after the batter had been inside for 6 seconds. Smoke. Charbroiled waffles. A rather funny breakfast.
The third time (why did we let there be a third time, anyway?), the whole apparatus smoked an unnatural amount, creating a cloud of vicious smoke in the kitchen, and sparks flew out of the cord and landed on a towel, where they had a mini-fire and I had a panic attack. After all that, the batter wasn't even cooked. Following that episode, I asked my mother for permission to stop owning the waffle iron. She granted it. We were waffle-iron-free! Matthew had been right. As usual. He's so smart! It should have been a decoration. Or, better yet, it should have been a permanent visitor to an antique store. One day I will start listening to him, I swear.
After all this drama, Matthew got me a brand new, 21st century waffle iron that has been useful and not dangerous. We've used it 4 or 5 times so far, and no one has been injured. I see it in the cabinet and groan because it takes up so much space, and it's a royal pain to clean, but I still love it, and it makes me happy. Pour the batter in, wait for an undetermined amount of time, and, eventually, you have a waffle! Our waffle iron is a little basic -- as in, when you plug it in, that's what turns it on. It has a red light and a green light that both light up when this happens, and both lights stay on the whole time it's plugged in. Clearly they are just decorative (it's a Christmas toy!), although I imagine someone at the factory wanted them to actually have a function, and it just didn't quite work out.
The waffle iron does its job though, and, really, when you are itchin' for a waffle, you don't care how much space the contraption has been taking up in your kitchen. The waffles I made yesterday were of the peanut butter persuasion, which may make you nervous, but you should not be! The peanut butter flavor just comes through really gently and not obnoxiously -- and you could use almond butter, or sunflower butter, or any of those other wacky alternative-butters; I've found that the recipe works just as well and just as deliciously with many of them. The pecans are just because I have a fondness for such things. In waffles, they always remind me of the pecan waffles at Waffle House, which is a very happy sort of thing. You should push this recipe around a bit, and try some different things. The core of the recipe is a terrific base for any sort of add-ins, so you can have any kind of waffle adventure that you can dream of.
Easy, Dreamy Peanut Butter Pecan Waffles
2 1/4 C flour (all-purpose or whole wheat, or a combo!)
4 t baking powder
1/2 C peanut butter
1 1/2 T sugar
2 eggs, beaten
2 1/4 C milk (I used 2%, but any kind will work)
1/4 C vegetable oil
1/4 t kosher salt
2/3 to 1 C chopped pecans (use as many as you like, or leave them out if you don't roll like that!)
cooking spray or melted butter
Combine first 8 ingredients, whisking well to combine peanut butter completely with everything else. Stir in pecans. Preheat waffle iron and when it is hot, spray with cooking spray or brush with butter. Spoon batter into waffle iron and cook each one until golden brown. Serve hot with butter and syrup (and bananas!).
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