Evolution of a Waffle Blog

I think it was my 11th birthday when I was given the novel "Everything on a Waffle" by Polly Horvath. The novel itself did not have any particular affect on my life, nor did any book for that matter. To explain: I was blessed with the attention span comparable to that of a goldfish. This makes reading too difficult for my incompetent, absent mind. In any case, the title of the novel stuck with me. The idea that a dish -- normally confined to the breakfast table and accompanied by fruit plus maple syrup -- could break free of its formula, inspires me. Inspires me to what? To challenge myself to a waffle-a-week.

But before I begin cooking up a storm of waffles, I need to get reading. I've taken the liberty of borrowing Horvath's novel from the library (my copy is sitting, unread, on a bookshelf in my parent's house). I'm going to focus what little attention and read the book.

I need to mention one more pivotal development in this evolution-of-a-waffle-blog blog post. Last April, whilst studying for my exams in the library, my roommate pulled a stack of books out of her bag: a cookbook, a novel, and a few children's storybooks. "I found them on a table labeled "free" in the lobby" she told me. Why my 23 year old friend deemed it necessary to start stocking up on children's literature for her future offspring, I do not know. But this oddity only conquered my attention for a few moments before it was overcome by the word "free". You see, when you're a starving university student, anything with the word "free" takes priority.

I ran down to the table, imagining myself taking advantage of my five foot three inch stature to squeeze through a crowd of students, similarly captured by the word "free". To my surprise, the table sat in an empty lobby and held nothing but a measly book left. This book was the kid picked last (or by default) for a game of soccer-baseball at recess. Even when it cost nothing but the weight to carry it home, nobody wanted it.

I wasn't even going to look at it since I imagined a title such as "Learning Grammar" or "How to Weed a Garden -- and Other Life Lessons" to bore my eyes. But it was yellow (according to neuroscientists, the most salient colour) and boasted a picture of scrumptious looking waffles. I think the end of this anecdote is intuitive: I took the book, brought it home, imagined myself becoming "waffle chef extraordinaire", and never opened it since. Then, a week ago, in a rage of boredom, decided to start flagging the pages holding the recipes I wanted to make.

So today, I am making a pledge: read Horvath's book and make a waffle-a-week for the next TBA number of weeks. Let the waffle making begin!