"Geeg, Get This Guy A Waffle Iron."
On Sunday mornings, early, we go to a place called Waffles. It's this house in Uptown; Gary has been doing Waffles for 30 years. Every Sunday morning, it's like open house; you show up, he feeds you waffles.
That's the deal.
There's between, oh, 10 and 40 people total coming and going between 8 am and noon. It's a very Port Townsend thing, although I think Gary did it at his old house in Seattle four+ years ago before he moved here.
I've been trying to get a good batch of waffles ever since I lost my groove for it back in '02. So I asked Gary for his recipe. He has a stack of them at the ready, and he quickly equipped me with the information.
"You need to play with the recipe to get what you want, though," Gary said.
"I've been playing with waffle recipes for two years now. My recipes always suck," I said.
"You have a waffle iron?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said quickly. "Well ... it's a plastic thingy, you know, ..."
He just looked at me.
"That's not a waffle iron," he said. Then he called out over his shoulder to G.G.:"Geeg, get this guy a waffle iron."
"You have a spare?" I asked, surprised at the thought that I was just going to get a free waffle iron.
"Christ, I have 30!" he said. And he wasn't kidding. G.G. picked a good one out and now it's sitting in my truck. I'm a bit intimidated by it, and it might be some time before I can bring myself to plug it in.
