Meditations

Whipped Cream Anyone?


fuit-waffle.jpg

It’s six in the morning and I have a two year old banging on my head while screaming, “Whipped Cream! Whipped Cream!” It can only mean one thing: it’s Sunday.

How do I know this? Well, Sunday is waffle day in our house, and I have quickly learned that, to a two year old, a waffle is nothing more that a delivery vehicle for yummy whipped cream.

A two year old is easily seduced by the allure of whipped cream (but really, aren’t we all). It’s difficult for such a young palette to appreciate the rewards of a little experimentation. Any idea how many ways you can have waffles? It’s endless. Why just the batter alone offers so many choices: cornmeal, buttermilk, whole milk, lemon, vanilla, apple, walnut, almond, whole wheat. Need I go on? And then there are the toppings…oh baby! Can you say, fruit, fruit, fruit and more fruit? While my two year old prefers to drown his in whipped cream (whipping cream, 1tsp of maple syrup and a dash of vanilla), the waffle to me represents a platter from which to enjoy the succulence of fruit. My favorite? Strawberry and Papaya, but hey! I don’t discriminate. I’m not against a blueberry-banana combo, or a mango-pear fusion, it’s all good to me. Ah yes, Waffle Sunday, a great, simple tradition that we love.

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