The Snow Sucks, but the Waffles Rock
So the weekend before last I was up in Vermont, with friends snowboarding. See, there I am! Fueling up before a long day out on the slopes. Fresh off a trip to Colorado, where the snow is the best it's been in 20 years, my expectations were low for snow on the East Coast. This was a good thing, since the snow did, indeed, suck. I took a big fall at one point and smashed my elbow into the glacier, er, mountain, and to this day it still hurts. That just don't happen in the powder. I'm hoping my elbow heals up soon 'cause climbing has been a bitch and I'm headed out to Utah in a couple weeks for more freshies.
However, the trip was plenty of fun anyway and I discovered -- one week before the New York Times, apparently -- a new taste sensation via the Waffle Haus. See how happy I look in that picture up above? I looked about ten times happier after I discovered slopeside waffles.
The paper of record has a nice little story today about these insanely delicious treats. However, the article is more about the history of the Waffle Haus than a celebration of the waffles themselves. They're about the size of a paperback book, and thick but not too thick. The carmelized sugar coating keeps them hot and gives them a lovely, sweet-shell crunch. I also got mine coated in melted chocolate. Walking around, with sugar goo all over my face and thick chocolate sauce threatening to breach the cuffs of my jacket, the very sight of my sugar-high smile and sound of my contented sighs elicited squeels from other boarders/skiiers. "Ooooh! Waffles!" they screamed as they stampeded past me to get their own frozen mitts on some.
What I think is amusing is that my friend A., who rode back to New York with me in the Red Baron, took the photo of the Waffle Haus you see above. Obviously, he was psyched about it. However, at the end of the day, he chose a few more freezing, icy runs over a pit stop in the Waffle Haus.
Bad move, sucka. He's still kicking himself.
You can find the rest of the photos here if you care to see or, if you are among my West Coast readers, in case you want to point and giggle at what East Coast residents think constitutes a "mountain."
Utah, here I come...
However, the trip was plenty of fun anyway and I discovered -- one week before the New York Times, apparently -- a new taste sensation via the Waffle Haus. See how happy I look in that picture up above? I looked about ten times happier after I discovered slopeside waffles.
The paper of record has a nice little story today about these insanely delicious treats. However, the article is more about the history of the Waffle Haus than a celebration of the waffles themselves. They're about the size of a paperback book, and thick but not too thick. The carmelized sugar coating keeps them hot and gives them a lovely, sweet-shell crunch. I also got mine coated in melted chocolate. Walking around, with sugar goo all over my face and thick chocolate sauce threatening to breach the cuffs of my jacket, the very sight of my sugar-high smile and sound of my contented sighs elicited squeels from other boarders/skiiers. "Ooooh! Waffles!" they screamed as they stampeded past me to get their own frozen mitts on some.
What I think is amusing is that my friend A., who rode back to New York with me in the Red Baron, took the photo of the Waffle Haus you see above. Obviously, he was psyched about it. However, at the end of the day, he chose a few more freezing, icy runs over a pit stop in the Waffle Haus.
Bad move, sucka. He's still kicking himself.
You can find the rest of the photos here if you care to see or, if you are among my West Coast readers, in case you want to point and giggle at what East Coast residents think constitutes a "mountain."
Utah, here I come...
posted by Had To Move at 12:52 PM
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