Let me tell you a little sum’n bout Waffle House. If you grew up in the South, The real South not Florida, you had one that was yours. “My” Waffle House was by the old Books-A-Million in Opelika, Alabama. Cooks name was… aw hell it’s escaping me, Gary? Jim? Something quick and easy like that. We’ll go with Jim.
Jim was a rail thin, serious mother fucker. He took to his grill like it was a family member. When one of the waitresses hollard from across the room all the code for an order he was arranging, grabbing and setting up everything to knock out immediately and fast. Looked like a spider his arms were moving around so fast.
People are more than welcome to shit on Waffle House but they haven’t had it the way I used to growing up. I hear stories of some being worse than others and that may be, but I’ve yet to have a meal at one that didn’t satisfy every square inch of my needs at that point in time.
In high school I usually ended up at mine drunk and stoned at 2 or 3 a.m. Hot breakfast, low-key environment and understanding staff made for the perfect life-balance. They earned a very special place in my heart.
With a new baby coming in a few weeks we are on a bit tighter budget. We like to have Breakfast out as a family nearly every Saturday morning. Waffle House is extremely affordable and obviously I’m a fan so we made our way over yesterday.
The omelet is one of my go-to’s but I’ve eaten Waffle House so much I’ve refined my choice down to a very specific dish that I get every time:
I skipped out on the Country today because budget and all. I did miss it though, thought I wouldn’t.
Just like always, it was perfectly satisfying. The sandwich was hot and fresh off the griddle, the hash browns were cooked perfect and all the trimmings were balanced.
One of my favorite things that has caused a point of contention with me amongst some pedestrian eaters, they put pickles either on the sandwich or next to it depending on location. I’m a strong believer in dill pickles on a breakfast sandwich.
That vinegar and dill just pop over all the savory. Gives you a surge of “yep, this is fucking perfect” as you take a bite. I also like a fancy dijon or spicy mustard on ’em but I skipped that this morning as yellow mustard just doesn’t cut it.
Something weird happened though. Felt something wigglin’ in my nose so I did a quick blow of air and this piece of egg shot onto my arm. Not sure how that got up there.
Give the HOUSE a shot if you’ve been weary. Go in with an open mind and a need for food. My only critique is the eggs are cooked a little too hard to my liking and if I order them different they tend to not be right. So don’t expect to customize your order too much, take it as they offer it.
Overall Score: 9/10