I would have chosen the Waffle House over the Hansa House. |
There
was no vomit on the floor. Yes, I checked.
Road
trips provide opportunities for culinary adventures.
You
should always look for different and exciting and new places to dine when you
are traveling and can’t find a Panera Bread.
Our
drive to Florida provided such adventures. Caroline and I set out our non-Michigan
dining goals. She wanted a Jack in the Box taco, I wanted a Stuckey’s pecan
roll and we both wanted to explore a Waffle House. My wife wanted no part of any
of these things.
I
get the feeling that the Hansa House, the subject of this week’s bad postcard,
is the kind of place you visit while on the road and are hungry enough that you
don’t care anymore. The back read tells us that the restaurant features a
smorgasbord, can seat 350 people and is a block south of Disneyland.
The
front photo reveals that there are plenty of seats available!
I’m
sure it’s nice, but Caroline and I had our hearts set on Waffle House. There
are none in Michigan, but we were in intrigued after hearing Jim Gaffigan’s
routine.
Gaffigan
is famous his stand-up routine's assault on Hot Pockets, but has since moved on to poking
fun at Waffle Houses.
Bits
include:
“Now, if you’ve never
been to a Waffle House, just imagine a gas station bathroom that sells waffles.
You’ve been to a Waffle House.”
“Eh, that’s where I
want to go at 2 a.m.. That’s where everyone goes. Their slogan should be: ‘It’s
2 a.m., still time to make one more bad decision.’”
“You ever go into a
Waffle House during the day? That’s weird. ‘This place looks familiar; I think
I threw up in here. Oh, there it is!’”
We are not deterred
that easily.
I think we started
spotting Waffle Houses at the first exit in Ohio. And then we saw another at the next exit, and the one after that and the
one after that. In fact, I think we can honestly claim there was a Waffle House
at every exit along I-75 in Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee.
They can’t be bad, I
argued, if there are so many of them.
We finally stopped for
the night outside Chattanooga, and, of course, there was a Waffle House. This
was our chance! Caroline and I were allowed to walk over for a snack. This one
was technically a “Waffle Ouse” since the familiar yellow sign was missing a
letter. It was about 10:30 p.m.
We surveyed the
surroundings. There were about four booths in front by the windows, then about
six stools at the counter, and several more booths along the open food prep area
that included a two-tier bank of waffle makers.
Caroline, the Gnome of
Victory of Celebration and I slid into a booth with a good view of the waffle
makers. There were groups of high school kids or college kids in the booths
near the front.
Our cheerful waitress approached
from the other side of the counter. She didn't seem confused by the sight of a
gnome on our table. She’s seen worse, probably that evening.
She handed us menus, as
if we were ordering something other than waffles. It didn't occur to me that
there were different kinds of waffles, including peanut butter! We are bold,
but we weren't going to be crazy on the first trip. We ordered basic waffles.
We also learned that
the cook called in sick, and the waitresses were preparing all the food. I was
OK with that, since there’s probably no culinary arts degree necessary to pour
waffle batter into to wall of waffle makers.
We watched the waitress
spray the waffle maker with copious amounts of non-stick spray then pour waffle
batter from a big, white plastic bucket into two of the five waffle makers.
Now, you’d think
that people working at a place called Waffle House, and repeatedly carrying out
the task of making waffles would give someone the knowledge of how much batter
is required to fill the waffle maker.
Or, maybe watching
batter bubbling out is part of the fun.
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