Ramblings of a pseudo intellectual

I want to tell you about (me and Frank’s? Frank’s and my?) our date in Aruba.

Nothing too exciting, out to dinner, and then to a casino to play with some comped chips we were given for sitting through a timeshare presentation.

But the dinner itself was quite special.

We went to a restaurant called The Flying Fishbone - you must click the link.  Yes, that is the ocean.  Yes, those are tables right in the water.  Yes, it was every bit as amazing as you might imagine, to sit and take in some fine dining with your feet in the sand (because if you’re smart you wear shoes that are easy to slip on and off - even the waitstaff was all in flip-flops or just barefoot altogether).  We ate there after dark and it was enchanting.  We had the sound of the ocean, the lights of boats sailing by and the glow of Oranjestad in the distance.  A musician meandered among the tables playing smooth-jazz versions of Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole songs on a tenor saxophone.  You’re completely outside, not an awning in sight… just the stars and moon as your shelter.  Since Aruba never really gets below like 72 degrees at night, and there’s always a breeze, it was comfortable even at nearly 10 pm when we were paying our bill.

We had some yummy and very alcoholic drinks, shared a delicious crock of creamy corn soup with chunks of crab, then enjoyed our chosen entrees (I had shrimp and lobster, Frank had barracuda) and during the leisurely pace of the whole meal, talked about stuff we simply don’t have the time or energy to talk about on an everyday basis — stuff we might do when we retire, if and when we’ll be adding a third child to the mix, was there any way we could manage to stay on Aruba forever because it is so idyllic.  The food was good - not the best I’ve ever had, to be sure, but very good - yet combined with the amazing, unique, incredible ambiance it made for perhaps the best dining experience of my life.  The total with tip came to like $120, but that was with three drinks, soup, entrees, and a generous tip.  Well worth it, in my humble opinion.

So, two thumbs up.  I hope you’ll get the opportunity to experience it some time!  We left with full bellies, renewed spark, sand between our toes, a lighter pocketbook, and plans to definitely do it again.

I’ve talked previously about my waffle addiction.  To sum up mostly because I’m too lazy to link to past entries, we got a smokin’ new waffle iron for Christmas and it is being used heavily.  Granted we’re having waffles 2-3 days a week now, vs. the 6-7 days a week we were averaging right after Christmas (and sometimes more than once a day) but the waffle addiction continues.

I’m still using the just-add-water waffle batter, since the frequent waffle-making requires a mix that doesn’t otherwise become too labor-intensive.  We are using a giant bag from Costco with much success, making the batter just slightly thicker than the recipe suggests.  In the name of nutrition, I do usually add something to the batter.  Usually it’s wheat germ or flaxseed meal, or when I’m feeling wild and crazy, both.  Often, I run some frozen blueberries through a food mill and add those.  Lane claims she doesn’t like blueberries but she sure seems to love her some blueberry-flavored waffles.  I’ve tried banana pancakes on her and she would have nothing to do with them, which is weird to me because she loves pancakes, and she loves bananas.  Bananas and pancake batter, however, must fuel an as-of-yet-undocumented-by-science chemical reaction, thus rendering the final product completely abhorrent to her taste buds.  I thought they tasted good though.  Regardless, I won’t attempt mashed banana in the waffles for that reason, though I suspect it might taste good and would be a fine way to use up some overripe bananas.  Well, maybe I’ll try it anyway.  I do buy the waffle batter mix for nine cents a hectare at Costco.

When it comes to toppings, we eschew fruits and powdered sugar and whipped cream and go for the traditional butter and syrup approach.

I buy Olivio brand spreadable butter, which is just butter with some olive oil mixed in, because I’m not a fan of tearing apart my waffle (or bread or pancake or English muffin, etc.) just to get a little butter on it.  I suppose if I were more frugal I could create such a simple concoction myself, but I don’t have the patience, and my KITCHENAID STAND MIXER is in storage, without which I would not even attempt such a feat.  Maybe I will once I have it back, when we’re in a house.

As far as syrup… well.  A small part of me wants to be a syrup snob, reveling in real maple syrup and dismissing the stuff that’s not real syrup as sub par.  Alas, try as I have, I simply love me some maple-flavored high fructose corn syrup goodness.  Log Cabin is good, Mrs. Butterworth is to die for.  The super-diet low-cal stuff is always gross, but for me the “lite” syrups are close enough that I can tolerate the minor taste deficiency for half the calories.

That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy the real thing.  It’s good, and I’ll use it.  I respect it and revere it for lending its flavor to the artificial stuff.  We gave away little bottles of maple syrup as favors at our wedding.  We had a maple tree that ran sap at our old house, and I considered seeing if I could tap it and make my own syrup, just for fun.  (Yeah, I know, sort of weird… but I also on-and-off entertain the idea of beekeeping as a hobby, and am semi-seriously considering setting up a hive once we’re in a house.)

But given the choice, I will bow at the altar of Mrs. Butterworth every day of the week and twice on Sunday.

My friend Kate tipped me off on a great way to enjoy s’mory goodness sans fireplace. In fact, there is no heat source required at all. Basically, you take two graham crackers, spread one with Marshmallow Fluff, spread the other with Nutella, press together and enjoy.

They are insanely yummy. Dare I say, maybe even better than real s’mores? Well, they lack the campfire ambiance and the warm gooeyness, but they do taste quite good.

We got home from Buffalo, waffle iron in hand, on New Year’s Day.

Every day but one, I have made waffles for breakfast. The novelty simply hasn’t gotten old yet.

There are a few things I have learned about making waffles with these numerous, closely-timed waffle-making experiences under my belt.

1. I really, really, really love waffles.  I already knew I loved waffles, but the fact that I have eaten them six out of the last seven days has added the “really, really, really” to that statement.
2. Thicker waffle batter usually means a more solid waffle. This new waffle iron has really deep pockets, and if the batter’s too thin, the strength of the soft waffle interior is not enough to overcome the tackiness of the outer waffle to the waffle iron surface. You end up sort of gutting your waffle.  It does not render the waffle inedible, thank goodness, but it’s certainly not as pretty.  Thus, thicker batter is better.  It’s been challenging to figure out the correct batter consistency, and I haven’t quite mastered it yet, but this is mostly because I am a maverick in the kitchen and it pains me to be exact with measurements.
3. Pam spray is your friend.
4. I need to buy a set of wooden tongs for getting the waffles out and onto the plate. I started out using a metal fork and quickly realized that was, in a word, stupid. So I switched to a wooden fork we have, but wooden tongs would be an ideal tool. It is my mission this week to find a good pair. I’m thinking Williams Sonoma is probably a good place to start, but the cheapskate in me will check out Target first.

We like waffles. The ‘we’ being me and the hubby, and by all indications Lane and Jake seem to dig them, too. (Oh, the hubby’s name is Frank, if anyone cares.) And after a small temper tantrum on Frank’s part with our last waffle iron that involved him 1) not being able to follow directions and 2) a metal fork, our last waffle iron got 86′ed.

Thus, I conspired to get a new one for Christmas. I had in mind the one I wanted (well, really this is the one I wanted but even I don’t have the cohones to ask for a $200 waffle iron for a Christmas present) and instead of the normal price of $80 it usually sells for, I saw it for $50 at Costco just before Thanksgiving. (Can I also say here that I love Costco?) Being the indirect, passive-aggressive person I am, I promptly got on the phone with my dad, to whom I’d already mentioned my waffle-iron-desires, and said “Hey, I’m in Costco right now, and they have the waffle iron I want for Christmas for $50 when you would pay $80 for it anywhere else. Would you like me to buy it, bring it to Buffalo when we come for Thanksgiving so you can wrap it, and then you can pay me back for it and give it to me for Christmas?” Pleased it saved him one last thing to shop for and that it was saving him $30, my dad heartily agreed.

Wait, did I describe myself as indirect and passive-aggressive? I meant whatever the complete opposite of that would be.

So, I got the waffle iron, and it made the journey home yesterday, and it made its way out of the box today for New Year’s Day Brunch. Let me just say, this thing provides a very pleasant waffle-making experience. It beeps when it’s ready for the batter. It beeps when the waffle’s ready. The waffle practically falls right out of it. The waffle is yummy, even though I sacrilegiously use the “just add water!” pancake mix to make my waffles. (I also add oil, per directions… the directions that conspired with my husband to ruin our last waffle iron.) As an added bonus, the little flip thing you do at the beginning and end of the waffle cooking cycle is just fun.