Flowers in California

Flowers in California

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The True Waffle Story

In a hotel where I stayed last week, a sign in the elevator noted the "Daily Complimentary Hot Waffle Breakfast." To me the focus on waffles, to the exclusion of all other foods, seemed presumptuous. Had the hotel decided that everyone staying there would eat waffles and would this be strictly enforced, or was there an expectation that people love waffles and would jump for joy (hopefully not in the elevator because that's a weird experience) when they learned of this offering? Do people love waffles a lot more than I had realized?

As it turned out, the breakfast was not as waffle-centric as the sign had made it seem. Other food was offered as well - much of it typical of those types of breakfast situations. There were small, heavily processed muffins and danishes that I would not choose to eat anywhere else, hard boiled eggs that likely came from chickens far, far away and juices and coffees that seemed to run out just when you had the opportunity to obtain them. It can take some work to gather the components necessary for your meal at a complimentary breakfast bar.

I did not attempt to make waffles while there. And while I do not mind eating a waffle when the time is right, I do not see the attraction, for anyone, of making them in a hotel breakfast bar. There is the potential for a lot of mess when, morning after morning, new guests try to learn about and use waffle irons with which they are unfamiliar. There has to be batter sticking to the equipment, leaking out of the equipment and potentially burning in the equipment. In addition to that, I don't see the benefit of fresh-made waffles when the batter for them is squirted out from a waffle batter machine. I question how this amounts to an experience any more wholesome than popping an Eggo in the toaster and splashing some syrup on it. Perhaps there is some charm of which I am unaware.

I wonder what would happen if all the guests in the hotel decided one morning that, yes, they did want waffles for breakfast. The hotel was right; waffles were the answer after all. Would there be enough of the batter on the premises to meet the demand? I considered that perhaps there was a reservoir of waffle batter under the hotel parking lot. Perhaps, if you stayed at the hotel for enough nights, you would see a tanker truck come and feed something in through a hose. Always, in pipes and vast storage rooms, a ready inventory of this important substance would be at the ready. Never, would anyone really know what it contained but as long as people could always make waffles for themselves, that wouldn't matter.

Next time I am at a hotel, and especially one where a "Daily Complimentary Hot Waffle Breakfast" is offered, I will see if I can spot any doors leading to any subterranean rooms and vaguely labeled "Breakfast Supplies" or "Reservoir Entrance" or, the very obvious,"Waffle Batter Storage." I still won't have waffles, none of these thoughts have made me want to do that, but I will try to get a better understanding of the hotel's handling of them. I'll be eating my over-processed pastry and well-traveled egg as I observe the waffle happenings. And I'll look for pipes that are attached to the batter machine and know I am onto the truth.


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