Steve's Piece

Food Memory Essay

         Many of my fondest food memories are from my childhood, but for this essay I’m going to write about something more recent.

         For about half of my life I’ve been married and had children.  During this time I’ve driven down Interstate 95 to the southern part of our country with my family many times.  I’ve driven to Florida twice, South Carolina three times and North Carolina at least a dozen times.  We drive straight through to our destination -- a grueling drive but worth it. 

         During these trips my family has established some dining traditions.  The main tradition, and the one that means the most to me, is stopping for breakfast on the first morning of our trip.

         These trips began twenty years ago when we moved to Durham, North Carolina.  Typically, we'd leave New Hampshire in our fully loaded station wagon or mini-van in the early evening, just about sunset.   With no traffic we don’t have to detour through the major cities.  We pass through New York City at about midnight.  Just before sunrise we are usually driving down New York Avenue in Washinton, DC.  A detour past the Capitol and Lincoln Memorial provides a little excitement for those who are awake.

         The first few times we traveled south we stopped at a Denny’s in Woodbridge, Virginia.  We would get a typical Denny’s breadfast: pancakes, eggs, bacon, and homefries.  We had two children at the time.  Since my daughter Emily was not yet one, the stop involved a diaper change.

         A couple of times we stopped at Shoney’s in Fredricksburg, Virginia.  Shoney’s has an awesome breakfast buffet.  Shoney's has everything you could ever want for breakfast including Southern delicacies like biscuits and sausage gravy, cheese sauce for your scrambled eggs, and grits.  All you can eat!  That was great when I was in my thirties, but now that I’m more mature and need to watch my figure I drive right on past Shoney’s.

         Our tradition changed forever when we had our first Waffle House breakfast.  I’ll never forget it.  We were in Petersburg, Virginia.  We took a little side trip to the National Battlefield there to see what is left of "The Crater." It was about 8:00 AM when we left the battlefield, all hungry and grouchy.   Right there by the exit was a Waffle House.  They aren't much to look at, but we were desperate and decided to give it a try.

         There is nothing fancy about Waffle Houses.  They are small, about the size of an old time diner. The kitchen is in the open, on the other side of a lunch counter and a row of booths.  The waitress takes your order (“What can I git for y’all?”), then turns around and starts cooking.  There’s something really cool about being able to see – and smell – your order being prepared.          

         After ordering I take a trip to the bathroom. Waffle House bathrooms are nothing to write home about -- small, dark, damp and a little smelly – a slide bolt for a lock because the regular lock is broken.  But I appreciate that they have paper towels not blow dryers like Mickey D’s and Burger King. I splash cold water on my face with hands still vibrating from the road.  I splash cold water on my face three or four times and look at myself in the mirror as the grime on my skin and the fog in my brain are washed away. 

          I'm told the waffles at Waffle House are sublime.  My wife and kids say they have a hint of vanilla.  I usually get a Western omelet or one with cheese and chili.  The best thing they serve at Waffle House are the homefries – hot, greasy, crispy and soft, shredded not chopped potatoes.   I order mine with cheese, onions and jalapenos.

         Even though we are tired and grubby, we are always in good spirits as we eat breakfast and drink our coffee (better than Dunkin's).  Our vacation has officially begun!  We are several hundred miles from home and excited to be on a long awaited trip.  We talk about where we are going and what we are going to do when we get there. 

         The breakfast also marks the end of a long nights driving.  For the passengers it’s like waking up and emerging in a different world.  For me it’s a break from the road.  I leave breakfast, my belly full, feeling very content.  I’ve made it to the South.  We are past all the big cities and traffic of the Northeast.  Now it’s my wife’s turn to drive through the long boring stretch of Interstate 95 in North Carolina, and time for me to nap for a few hours.