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Oatmeal Waffles — The Tradition That Started in Mom’s Kitchen

Post-Thanksgiving. The leftover turkey became Mom's turkey pot pie (not a typo — she makes pot pie with turkey, not chicken, during Thanksgiving week, because why buy chicken when you have a twelve-pound turkey carcass to work with). The leftover stuffing became stuffing waffles again because this is now a tradition. The leftover cranberry sauce went into muffins that Mom invented — cranberry orange muffins that she's never made before but that she created on the spot because Donna Abernathy sees leftover cranberry sauce and thinks 'muffins' the way normal people think 'compost.' Ryan went back to Lejeune Sunday morning. The goodbye was harder than usual because Thanksgiving had been so perfect — three days of family and food and Ryan fitting in like he'd always been there — and going back to 'Rachel in Norfolk, Ryan in Lejeune' felt like stepping backwards. But: March. Four months until the wedding. The countdown is on and it feels like the whiteboard countdown from senior year but bigger. More real. More permanent. Wedding dress shopping happened Saturday. Mom, Megan, Keisha, and me at a bridal shop in Norfolk that Megan found online and that Mom considered 'too expensive, we could make a dress' (she cannot make a dress, she's delusional, but I appreciate the confidence). I tried on seven dresses. Megan liked the lace one. Keisha liked the one with the long train. Mom liked the simple one — A-line, no frills, clean lines, elegant. I liked Mom's choice. Because of course I did. The simple one. The one that doesn't try too hard. The one that says: I'm here. That's enough. The dress costs $600, which is more than we budgeted but less than Megan's suggestions, which started at $2,000 and went up from there. ('Megan, I'm marrying a Corporal, not a CEO.' 'Investment pieces, Rachel.' 'It's a WEDDING DRESS, not a stock portfolio.') Mom paid for it. She didn't ask. She handed the salesperson her credit card and said, 'This is for my daughter,' and signed the receipt with the same hand that signs the grocery lists and the Thanksgiving timelines and the recipe cards she tucks into my lunchbox. I didn't cry in the store. I cried in the car. Quietly, in the backseat, while Keisha talked about bridesmaid dresses and Megan talked about veils and Mom drove in silence, because Mom doesn't need to talk when she's already said everything that matters with a credit card and a simple sentence. This is for my daughter. Four months. The dress is in a garment bag in my closet. The cranberry muffins are on the counter. And my mother bought me a wedding dress.

The stuffing waffles are the tradition that started this whole thing — the idea that leftover anything, in Mom’s hands, becomes something intentional and worth repeating. These oatmeal waffles are the version she’d make any other morning: the same warmth, the same no-fuss confidence, the same belief that a good breakfast doesn’t need to be complicated to mean something. If you’re coming off a long holiday weekend with a house full of people you love and a countdown on the whiteboard, this is the recipe you want on the griddle.

Oatmeal Waffles

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4 (about 8 waffles)

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
  • 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 3/4 cups buttermilk (or 1 3/4 cups milk + 1 tablespoon white vinegar, rested 5 minutes)
  • 1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • Cooking spray or additional butter, for the waffle iron

Instructions

  1. Toast the oats. In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast the rolled oats for 3–4 minutes, stirring frequently, until fragrant and lightly golden. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. This step deepens the flavor and is worth the extra few minutes.
  2. Combine dry ingredients. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the toasted oats, flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt until evenly combined.
  3. Mix wet ingredients. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk, melted butter, and vanilla extract until smooth.
  4. Make the batter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a spatula until just combined. Do not overmix — a few lumps are fine. Let the batter rest for 5 minutes while the waffle iron heats; this allows the oats to absorb some of the liquid and gives you a better texture.
  5. Preheat and grease the waffle iron. Heat your waffle iron according to manufacturer instructions and lightly grease with cooking spray or a thin pat of butter.
  6. Cook the waffles. Pour enough batter to just fill the waffle iron (about 1/2 to 3/4 cup depending on your iron’s size). Close the lid and cook until the waffle is deep golden brown and releases easily from the iron, about 4–5 minutes. Repeat with remaining batter, greasing the iron between batches as needed.
  7. Serve warm. Serve immediately with maple syrup, fresh fruit, a dollop of yogurt, or whatever’s left on the counter. These also freeze beautifully — cool completely, then freeze in a single layer and reheat in the toaster.

Nutrition (per serving, 2 waffles)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 390mg

Rachel Abernathy
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 88 of Rachel’s 30-year story · San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.

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