From The Navajos To Brussels

Sometimes I think I`´m so awesome and it backfires.

I had just finished doing a little shopping in Brussels today and was on my way back to my hotel when my nose caught on to the fresh vanilla-ey toasty smell of street waffles. Of course I HAD to have one. ONE. So I ordered in French because I thought I was so awesome. The girl then proceeded to make TWO because my French is not so awesome. I knew exactly what was going on. I knew she thought I said two instead of one because of my pronunciation.

Did I correct her when I had the chance? No, because I persisted in thinking i was so awesome and didnùt want to ruin it. So, I sucked it up, payed for two, took two. Walked away and only ate one. The other is up in my hotel room, wrapped in a napkin. I wish one of you could be here to eat that other waffle. And unlike me, it is not pretentiously awesome. It IS awesome. It´s too bad I cannot share it with you.

I had another amazing waffle just three days earlier on the Navajo Indian Reservation on the border of Utah and Arizona. It was just as good but in a different way. Instead of vanilla-ey sweet with crusted sugar, this one was sweet and sour in a sour cream kind of way. It was made with month old whole wheat sour dough starter by Andrew. The scenery on the reservation was spectacular (picture red rock desert and canyons in springtime)and, I have to say, Andrews cooking was on par with the scenery. WOW.