Last year's leftover goal had trickled into 2009 like slowly oozing maple sap: Drive to the nearest Waffle House, try to spend at least 10 dollars, and purchase 3 tubs of Cool Whip from Wal-Mart on the way home. I'd never done this before.
There is no greater road trip icon than the Waffle House, the 24-hour diners that dot our land aand light up our highways. It had been awhile, a long while of IHOPs and poorly-ironed imitations that had left me cold. I dressed as a waffle for Halloween one year. I deserved better.
I typed in my zip code and pondered my choices: a 48-mile drive to Bethlehem, PA, or a 49-mile trek to Elkton, MD. Not so crazy. We rented a car and set off.
Is 3 hours of round-trip travel time (over an hour each way) the penance for waffle absolution?
Waffle Houses are exact copies of one another, tiny, intimate stops where prices, fashion, and time stand still. Our food was brought to the table immediately, out triggered the syrup, in went sodden forkfuls of what was just as good as we'd remembered. If slightly better, because of the culinary miles logged, and the "You went where? For waffles?" reactions.
*Vegan Treats is about 10 minutes away from here, but we gave up looking for it because Linden St. was so terribly misleading. We did eventually find a Wal-Mart, but it was not as easy as previously assumed.