Sadly, we'll probably never go again unless it's a different location at 3:00 in the morning, and we are starving with no other options in a 100-mile radius. My wife and I were rich in grace that day because we extended more as we waited for our waffles, grits and hash browns.īy the time our food came out, the little family of ants or their surviving cousins had returned, probably looking for the pack of ants that had just been killed with bleach. After about 15 minutes, the young server came back to us and said, "I forgot to put your order in because we were so busy." There were about eight customers in the restaurant and damn near the same number of employees. However, the young server drenched the table with a bleachy rag and proceeded to take our order. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't tolerate one ant. Subscribe today to support Salon's progressive journalism After sitting for about eight minutes, someone came to remove them and we discovered about 15 ants. Our trio - my wife, daughter and I - found a booth covered with dirty dishes in the corner. Maybe they were short a few crew members or just had a rush and didn't get a chance to tidy up. We pulled it into a location, and the only thing happier than the look on my face was the feeling in my belly because I knew I was about to be blessed with the waffles I had been attempting to make on my own over the past three years.Īlas, my heart shattered into 1,000 pieces when I entered the dirty restaurant. So, I had no complaints for my wife when she recommended we stop at a Waffle House on our way back home to Baltimore from Delaware last week. We ate those beautiful, sweet waffles and smothered hash browns every weekend until round two or three of the COVID vaccine dropped. You literally soak the box of potatoes in water, drain that water, throw the potatoes in a pan with some chopped onions, fry them to a light crisp and dump all the cheese you feel comfortable with on top - perfection. Soon, I fell in love with that Waffle House mix and realized how easy it is to make smothered hash browns. "The Waffle House mix is sweeter and I like it more," she said, "They also sell those hash browns I love. I was using that 365 Whole Foods brand until my wife found out you could actually order Waffle House mix. We bought a waffle maker, and I started experimenting with all types of blueberry, pecan, and banana waffles. And as you can imagine, many of us became bored with our regular go-to cuisines and became hungry to explore new menu items. Home-cooked meals became mandatory for everybody. During that year, we also had our first experience figuring out ways to survive a global pandemic. Our last two visits to Waffle House, before I finally convinced her to try Cracker Barrel, were so much better that I didn't feel confident recommending food for like a year. Cracker Barrel had lost a step the fish wasn't as good as it used to be, and the grits were as lumpy as an unpaved road. Of course, like always, my wife was right. ![]() So, one day, I talked her into eating with me at Cracker Barrel because she just had to be ordering the wrong items when left to her own devices–– and it was up to me to mansplain to the server what we wanted and how it should be prepared. Why would they sell scrapple? Don't they know slavery is over?" "The Waffle House sucks!" I always pushed back, "They still use American cheese, which is extremely pedestrian, and only sells pork products. ![]() "Cracker Barrel is weird," my wife argues, "And why does every location have a store in the front? It's overrated."įor years, I tried to convince her that the catfish and grits at Cracker Barrel are top-tier and far superior to anything that the Waffle House has ever dreamed of serving. We used to always have that classic debate about what spot hits better on a road trip: Do we stop at Cracker Barrel or do we stop at the Waffle House? The artistic allure of Waffle House, America's most surprising culinary muse
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