If I had to pick one meal to eat for the rest of my life, it would most likely be some kind of breakfast. Something dripping with syrup and a nice crispy side of bacon. I L-O-V-E breakfast! I mean come on. Most breakfasts consist of eggs, butter, flour, and sugar. Sounds like dessert disguised as a meal if you ask me. And if I had to pick an ultimate breakfast favorite, it would probably be waffles. Thick fluffy waffles drenched in sweet sticky maple. Mmm..
Okay, so we’re all friends here right? Cause I’m about to let you in on a little secret. Waffles bring out my crazy. Not the “I’m crazy for waffles” crazy, but the “I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with you” crazy. I’ve told you about some of my food idiosyncrasies before—my hatred for vegetables, my dislike of squishy food (like baked fruit), liking one form of a food and not another (love apples, hate almost anything made with apples--and the exact opposite with oranges). But I haven’t shown you the level of crazy waffles bring out.
I’m very particular about my waffles. Like... OCD particular. First of all, they
have to be round. None of this square or fancy shaped waffle nonsense. Round waffles or no waffles at all. (I actually owned a square waffle iron a long time ago. I didn’t make waffles for years because of it. I hated that thing.) You see, they have to be round because I have to cut them into quarters. And once they’re quartered, I have to cut off the rounded edges. Turning them into... yep,
squares. (Which, you know, given my hatred of square waffles, makes
perfect sense. Like I said, crazy.) (BTW- I do the same thing with pizza that’s been cut into squares, instead of slices. Corners first.
Always.)
And the crazy doesn't stop there. After they’re cut into squares (that they could
not start out being) I cut off the right third of the square. And then divide the remaining rectangle into thirds from the top down. I do this every. single. time. And I probably shouldn’t even mention that the syrup has to be poured methodically into each and every square—no haphazard drizzles here—to the point of saturation, so there’s ample syrup in every bite.
I don’t know when it started. I don’t know how it started, but it’s just what I do. I know, I know. They're just waffles. They taste the same no matter how they're cut. I'm just weird. But hey. Maybe I’m riding first class on the crazy train, but at least I get to enjoy a delicious breakfast in the dining car.
Be sure to tune in next time when my crazy is brought to you by multiples of five! (Yep. It extends well beyond food. Pretty sure they’re going to promote me to conductor soon.)
Do you have any food related weirdness? I'd love to hear it! I might even save you a seat and some waffles on our awesome train trip to Crazytown.
