When I woke up this morning I got this sudden urge to make waffles!  I peer out my window to see that both my sisters are home and so it would be an opportune moment to make breakfast for everyone.  Well, more like breakfast for me and Rachel, because Bethany would probably be getting up in time for lunch.  Anyways, I am a serious advocate of breakfast food and eating in the morning is so good for you!  Especially something as hearty as waffles ;)  So I go downstairs and greet my darling sister, Rachel and ask her, “Would you prefer waffles or pancakes? I really want some and doesn’t that sound really good?”  Her face lights up and she nods her head in agreement.  “Waffles do sound amazing, but…we have a crappy waffle iron.  It burns the edges and doesn’t cook the middle.”  She explains and I wrinkle my nose in disgust.  So making waffles was out…and I didn’t really want pancakes because I could make those any time!  I longed for my mother’s wonderful waffle maker and recipe that always made these golden, delicious gridded cakes.  “If only we had mom’s waffle iron…”  I pause as I think.  “Well, what should we do?!” I say exasperated. “We could buy one?”  She suggests, but we both shake our head as we realize that is just too much of a process.  “We could go to Frothy Monkey?  They have these buckwheat, super healthy waffles that are supposed to be good.”  She responds.  It’s an option, but we decide to search the internet for other places in Nashville that might serve breakfast, specifically waffles.  All the places we were remotely interested in served all the above, except…waffles.  I say, “We could go to Wafflehouse?”  I mean it seemed logical to me, the name clearly states that they serve waffles.  Guaranteed waffles; couldn’t get any better.  “I am not going to Wafflehouse!”  My sister protests and I clearly see her point.  I mean, it isn’t the classiest place in town.  After going back and forth for a little bit we decide to go to Frothy Monkey. 

            We arrive and the parking lot is full!  We hope that we can grab a table before all the hipster children with their cool Mac laptops do.  Frothy Monkey is one of my favorite places in Nashville.  It is always filled with interesting people and they have a fun, relaxed atmosphere.  And who doesn’t love going out for breakfast?  I know I do!  I stand in line while Rachel goes and grabs a lovely table scrunched in a corner.  And I order, two plates of their (hopefully) delicious buckwheat/whole wheat/healthy/whatever waffles and of course a cup of coffee for me.  I go and sit down and we wait for our breakfast, making small talk.  Mostly just laughing about random stuff, but that’s not important.  Rachel gets her beautiful plate of waffle and fruit and we both eye it anxiously.  “I wonder if they have peanut butter.”  I ask aloud, I always eat my pancakes and waffled with peanut butter and syrup.  Don’t like them any other way.  I successfully retrieve a small cup of all natural peanut butter and wait patiently for my plate of waffles to come out.  The little waitress or barista or whatever you want to call her comes over and says, “Um excuse me?  Did you order the waffles?”  “Uh-huh.”  We answer and we see she is empty handed…
“Well we just ran out of waffle batter, so uh…we have pancakes?”  Rachel and I both exchange a look and kind of laugh as we both try to figure out what we want to do.  “Here, you can have the waffle.”  She places the plate in front of me.  “Oh, no!  I couldn’t…no…”  Except I really, really wanted that waffle.  “I’ll just get pancakes.”  Rachel replies and the girl scurries away while we look at each other again and laugh.  “Oh, the irony!”  Rachel exclaims and we laugh again.  “It’s no big deal; here you should eat that before it gets cold.”  So I do, I spread the peanut butter over the surface and then fill all the holes with syrup and then…take the first bite.  Excellent.  Perfect.  Divinity.  The heavens are singing and rejoicing; exactly what I wanted.  Rachel gets her pancakes and we enjoy a lovely breakfast together.  She cuts herself a piece of the waffle and then replies, “I am SO glad I got pancakes, they are so much better.”  So in the end…it all worked out!  And we were able to spend the morning together, each equally satisfied and happy about our breakfast food.      

here are my lovely waffles

rachel with la pancakes

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