Waffles

There is a Bunn family tradition that goes back as far as I can remember. It’s not only for holidays or birthdays but anytime siblings gather or friends visit. Waffles. This is Dad’s big meal. He makes dozens of waffles on his electric griddle and cooks sausage links or patties. I’ve learned more about Mom and Dad during these meals than any other single event.

On Sunday night, we gathered round the table on the back porch. We laughed and ate and ate some more. No one left the table hungry. As I looked around at Mom, Dad, my sister, my brother, my daughters and my husband, I reflected on how much things have changed.

Although Dad has always done the cooking, Mom used to put everything out on the table. Now we get Mom situated first; then each of us get our own drinks and Dad sets things on the table. Mom would keep the conversation rolling, but this time Mom was quiet and Dad did most of the talking. It’s been a gradual but steady change over the past few years.

When I was a little girl, this was a Sunday evening tradition. As my siblings went away to college, others joined us at the table. My own homecomings after moving away involved waffles with a roommate or friend, and, eventually a fiancé and husband. Then the children came. It is no longer a weekly tradition, but whenever it happens, there’s a comfort in the familiar smells and routine.

There are so many photographs from around the table. There is laughter and joy in those pictures. Mom loves to extend her table to those who would gather. She talks of how her daddy would invite neighbors to his table. Anyone was welcome. Mom’s table is the same way. And now Dad invites to his table, too. I couldn’t begin to count the number of my friends or friends of my family that have eaten waffles around that table on the back porch. Whether they are longtime friends or brand new acquaintances, it doesn’t matter to him. What better way to get to know someone than over waffles.

You can learn a lot about a person by the way they eat. Do they drown their waffles in syrup? Do they cut each individual square very methodically? (You know who you are!) Is their sausage to waffle ratio even or do they enjoy the sausage sparingly? Since the sausage is imported from Nahunta Pork Center in eastern North Carolina, it is a delicacy. (There is another brand that the local Ingles carries which is close but not quite as good.) Are our guests partial to maple syrup or do they like sorghum?

The table topics range can range from school or books to ballgames (which are usually on in the other room.) Dad is well read and can converse on many things. Family memories about food make up a big part of our conversation when we’re all together. Dad can remember the best barbeque joints or unique places to dine. With so many years of traveling, they certainly saw some interesting places and ate some wonderful food.

Mom loves to eat waffles. Every time Dad makes them they are always the best she’s ever eaten. She rarely eats more than one, but she relishes it. She revels in the feeling of warmth and laughter although I know she struggles to keep up with the flow of the conversation. Like me, I think she’s disappointed when the meal is over and we start cleaning up. She has never liked it when the party was over. I understand.

The simple things make us happy. Simple ingredients make a memory and build relationships. Cherish all the simple things.