Husband and I took a little excursion this past weekend. We were going to yet another wedding and Husband had a meeting to attend, but we also wanted to relax and enjoy the small, mountain community in which we were staying.
Small mountain community. Sounds like the setting for a horror flick, doesn’t it?
You know, it’s always a treat to see what Husband’s deal-sleuthing will grant us. We’ve been in charming little bed and breakfast-like places, we’ve also been in five-star hotels with fantastic breakfast bars. It’s part of the thrill — you never quite know what you’re going to get.
When we walked into the lobby of this hotel, we saw a sign: “Please pardon our renovations. Thank you for visiting us!!!”
Hmm. Three explanation points. That should have been the tip-off.
Overall the lobby looked quite nice. In fact, the whole first floor looked nice. I checked the breakfast area – it was huge! And the long counter looked promising for the next morning’s breakfast.
Our room was small, but clean. One bed, one chair, one small table. Husband put our suitcase on the bed, pronounced the room serviceable, then left for his meeting. I think if spooky background music had been playing, he would have found the tune charming.
Husband is like that. Not the most intuitive of guys. Were this a cabin in the woods with an ax murderer hiding in the shed, he would have invited him in for drinks.
I looked over some of the hotel papers, there was a coupon for Tony’s Pizza. Best chicken wings in town! 10% off! Eventually I found the WiFi password: hotelguest1234. Not the most creative people, these ax murderers.
After writing on my laptop for about an hour, I started to feel a bit peckish. Throwing caution to the wind, I ventured forth to find a vending machine.
Dejected, I returned to my room. I comforted myself with the fact that 1) I should get a good breakfast in the morning, and 2) I safely eluded the ax murderer.
However morning breakfast did not live up to my expectations. Cold cereal and gooey pastries were the main fare, although there was a waffle iron so I went with that. Unfortunately, there was also an impatient woman monitoring my waffle’s progress.
“It seems to be taking a long time,” she said. “Are you sure you did it right?” I nodded as I poured my orange juice. Waffle irons aren’t exactly rocket science, after all.
“I don’t know,” she continued. “Seems like it’d be done by now … sure seems to be taking a long time … did you flip it? You’re supposed to flip it.”
Yeah, I’d like to flip you, lady.
“Sure is taking a long time … it might be burning by now, you know? … Maybe you should check it …”
Growing tired of her prattling, I removed my waffle before it was quite done. Because I’m passive that way. And here’s something I learned: there’s really nothing quite so sad as eating a slightly under cooked waffle on a styrofoam plate with a cheap plastic fork. It is one of the great miseries of this world.
To combat this depressive state of affairs, once we were home I made waffles. We ate them on real plates with real silverware. No prattling lady or ax murderers in sight.
Joy was mine again. 😀
Happy to Be Home Waffles
- 3 eggs
- 1/4 cup sugar
- 3/4 cup flour
- 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
- 1/8 teaspoon salt
- 3/4 cup Greek yogurt
- 1/4 cup melted butter
In a bowl, beat together eggs and sugar until thick and pale. In another bowl, sift together flour, nutmeg and salt. Carefully fold flour mixture into egg mixture, along with the yogurt, until well incorporated. Gently stir in melted butter. Set aside while you wait for the waffle iron to heat.
Use about 1/3 cup batter for each waffle. Close the iron and cook about 3 minutes, until just brown. Serve warm with syrup, fresh fruit or jam.