Philadelphia, and the immediate surrounding area, is missing one of my favorite dining establishments
ever –
Waffle House.
For those that don’t know, Waffle House is a chain diner specializing in breakfast foods and American classics.
Waffle House started as a single diner in the suburbs of
Atlanta in the 1950’s, and has grown to 1500 restaurants today.
The Southeast has the highest density of Waffle Houses, although they have spread to many, but not all states. Georgia's so full of these places, that there’s even an exit off of I-20 near
Atlanta with four Waffle Houses – one on every corner!
There are a handful of Waffle Houses surrounding the Delaware Valley area, but they are not close. Type in a search for Waffle House with my current Wilmington zip code and the closest Waffle House that pops up is in Maryland, about a 45 minute drive away. Philly doesn’t fare any better. Type in a search for Waffle House with my old South Carolina zip code and 24! pop up, all under 15 miles away.
I have been to three Waffle Houses that are currently near me, if you can call a 45 minute to 1 hour drive near. I miss the convenience of having Waffle Houses near me, because that’s what they are – convenient. They’re always open (always) and ever present – or, at least, they used to be ever present in my old state.
A spend-the-night party (much-alcohol party) out in Lancaster a few weeks ago gave me the opportunity to swerve off PA highway 30 into the Waffle House parking lot across from the outlet mall amusement park in Amish land. To me, the Waffle House trumps ogling the Amish and rummaging racks of clothes any day, and is the only reason to stop on this retched stretch of highway.
My partner didn’t know I had such a boner for Waffle House, and was befuddled when I rashly swung into the Waffle House parking lot. Oh, did I forget to mention my eternal, never dying love of Waffle House? Perhaps that’s because there’s No. Waffle. House. Near. Us. Well, now that you’ve ripped open that painful wound, the story is going to gush out.
Where should I start? I guess high school. 24-hour diners play a starring role in any teenager’s life that cruises around at night looking for a cheap place to hang out before, during, or after hanging out with friends and getting loaded. There was one Waffle House in particular that was on “our side” of town that we frequented the most, but there were Waffle Houses on the other side of town, too, when we found ourselves out roaming the entire city. In trying to pin down the gang, we’d first drive to Christine’s house (her mom worked 3rd shift) to see if people were drinking there, then we'd search the State Park to see if acid was being eaten out in the woods, finally we’d check the Waffle House for the famished troops. (Cell phones would have been so cool.) The Waffle House was great – open 24 hours and omnipresent, so no matter when or where we were, we always had food; super cheap, so even crusty teenagers could afford to eat; retro-cool, so jokes about the yellow, brown, and orange décor, the country music-filled jukebox, and the poor staff that had to (and still do) wear the diner get-up always entertained.
It was the many pit stops at Waffle House during high school with friends that fostered my addiction to my two favorite menu items – the waffle and the hash browns. Waffle House makes the best waffles, and I’m sticking to that. They have to. It’s called Waffle House! Make sure your waffle isn’t under cooked, and you’re golden.
The hash browns take a little knowledge to order correctly, and that I have. Waffle House has a list of different ways you can order hash browns: Scattered = scattered on the grill, not cooked in a metal ring; Smothered = slice of American cheese melted on top; Covered = with diced onions; Chunked = with diced ham; Diced = with diced tomatoes; Peppered = with jalapeño peppers; Capped = with mushrooms; and Topped = with chili. It’s fun to order in this diner lingo, and also hear the waitresses shout out your order in the lingo. I always order my hash browns scattered, smothered, and covered on a dry grill, so as not to be too greasy, and specify crispy, or else they can come out a little raw if the place is hoppin’ (it always is) and the order are flying. Top the hash browns with black pepper and ketchup from the condiment caddy sitting on the table, and dig in. The savory hash browns are the perfect companion to the sweet waffle, and, together, the two cure any craving you might have.
It was in college that I really fell in love with Waffle House. After a night of drinking and who knows what, my reckless roommate suggests we drive three hours to Atlanta in the middle of the night. I concede that this is a brilliant idea, since I have a boyfriend that lives there any way, so we pack nothing and head out on a drunken driving adventure. (Not recommended at any age.) About two hours into the trip, we decide we’re hungry, and pull off an exit with a Waffle House. The place is inexplicably slammed for being out in the middle of no where and at such a late hour. We wait forever to get a table, and when we do, the sassy, but ever-polite waitress tells us the horror story of the other waitresses walking out earlier, leaving only her and the one short-order cook. We sympathize and tell her not to worry, we’re cool. It was this night that I witnessed some of the most skilled cooking I’ve ever seen. This lone short-order cook choreographed fried eggs, bacon, steak, hash browns, and every other piece of food coming out from behind the counter at breakneck speed perfectly. He was fast, precise, and had flair – he cracked eggs and tossed the shells over his shoulder, without so much as a glance backwards, and hit the trash can ever time. I was amazed, and amused with the floor show. I had great respect for his skill. I was in love.
Then there was the time that I was really in love with a Waffle House short-order cook. This love affair also occurred during college. His name was Robert, and, God, was he cute! Cooks at Waffle House are rarely cute, but he was young and hot. I would actually drive to the outskirts of town and hang out at the Waffle House to play cards with him and chat him up during his slow times. When he cooked, I would almost faint. He had a girlfriend, and I had a boyfriend, so I just went there for fantasy fodder. He was awfully sweet (hot), and I enjoyed hanging out with him. He even gave me a Waffle House keychain that I have to this day. The best gift he gave me, other than standing in front of me, was one of his work shirts that had Waffle House embroidered on it. He had to sneak that one to me, because he could have gotten in trouble. Such a sweetie – and hot!
Well, after that last paragraph, I’m sure you think I’m mental. But wait. There’s more! For over ten years, I carried a brochure that listed all the Waffle Houses in the United States in my purse. Whenever I ate at a Waffle House I would circle the location on the brochure. (Note the comment for the Waffle House Robert worked at. I’m slightly embarrassed, but I was young.) I’ve circled Waffle Houses in South Carolina, Georgia, Texas, Louisiana, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. The only problem is that the ‘90’s saw the biggest growth of Waffle Houses, and new establishments were popping up all the time. There were so many new Waffle Houses that they quit printing the brochure. My brochure quickly became outdated, and practically useless. So, it came out of my purse when I left the Southeast, and currently lives in a safe place with other memorabilia. I still have it, because that’s how much I love Waffle House. There. My secret love affair is finally out.
*Along with warm climate, close proximity to Waffle House is now on my list of requirements when relocating to a city. How could I have been so absentminded and not checked for Waffle Houses when I moved to Pennsylvania/Delaware?
Waffle House, Everywhere but here
Open: 24/7/365