In reading his recent near obesessional posts about waffles, I recalled that my mother had a waffle iron back in the late forties or early fifties and that its products were really quite good. I have no idea what she put into them but in those days, no one was concerned about cholesterol or obessesed about food allergies and contaminants. If you got sick, you might have to spend some solitary time in unpleasant surroundings but no one thought the consequences were as serious as an atomic attack which was all the rage at the time. Today, you can read things like "white rice is lethal," and other likeminded outrageous statements made by seriously committed Carson looneys. What of waffles containing a half pound of butter, whole eggs, and enough whipped cream, ice cream and chocolate to cause an elephant's aorta to clog up. Well, pick your poison but "nothing to excess" includes these items as well.
With that in mind I hied myself over to the doctor where the whole gang, lovey, bug, stretch and the rest of the panoply of characters who inhabit the pages of this blog were gathered over a Sunday afternoon kaffee klatch. I slid right into a seat after examining the showpiece of the mansion, the new rotating waffle iron. Not much different from the 40's version except that this one rotates and makes round waffles. I was offered a fat free waffle which, outwardly, was a paradigm for the masterpiece of the genre. I was offered fat-free ice cream and I scooped out two delicious gobs of the same to place upon the center of waffle, poured some artificial maple syrup into the waffle's crevices then topped the ice cream with some chocolate syrup and just as I was about to take my first forkfull of this delightful concotion, I was offered the piece de resistance (which I could not resist), a maraschino cherry. I left off the whipped cream because it isn't fat free. (All this took place before I had read a recent comment on this blog that the waffles should include these toppings)
Here's what it looked like at that moment.
Now here's the sad part.
With avidity I plunged my knife into the waffle, expecting to feel the crunch as the blade scraped over the waffle's crusty ribs. I knew I was in trouble when, instead, I felt a sensation akin to trying to cut into a rubber band. But, being the brave soul I have spent my life trying to make my persona, I foolishly placed the morsel into my mouth and started chewing for all I was worth.
The ice cream with the two syrups were great, to say nothing of the cherry.
2 comments:
Tell the doc they do make fat free whipped cream, and if you gave the Soupmaker (your wife) a crack at waffle making, you'd most likely end up with a tasty confection with the right consistency!
The waffle was just there to get the rest of it into your mouth. Think of it as a soggy cone. (which is i believe the folklore behind ice cream cones in the first place). oh well better luck next time.
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