By May is here and the lilacs are open and the kitchen smells like them through the window and this is the best week of the year and I say that every year in May and I mean it every year in May. I cut the branches on Saturday and put them everywhere: the kitchen counter, the windowsill above the sink, the table in the entry, the shelf in the hallway where I keep the recipe card box Mason built. Every room that has a flat surface has lilacs on it. Brandon says it is excessive. I say: objectively no.
Mother's Day is Sunday and the kids came through. Ethan, now thirteen, made me breakfast: scrambled eggs and toast and orange juice, and he called me to the kitchen at eight-fifteen with the specific ceremony of someone who has cooked something and wants it received with appropriate gravity, which I gave it. He is the child who has been helping with dinners since last summer per his self-made contract, and in that time he has gotten good enough at scrambled eggs that they were perfect, actually, properly soft and not dry, and I told him so and meant it.
Noah gave me a card that he illustrated himself: it depicted the two of us at a table with what appeared to be a very large soup bowl between us. He said: that is us eating soup together. I said: I love it. He said: the soup is really good soup. I said: I believe you. He said: it is from the freezer, it is your soup. I said: of course it is. He seemed satisfied. The card is on the refrigerator. The illustrated freezer soup is excellent.
Birthday is in three weeks. Thirty-six. I have been thinking about what thirty-six means in a way I have not thought about thirty-five: thirty-five felt like survival confirmed. Thirty-six feels like something else is possible. I do not know exactly what. But I am going to find out.
Ethan’s scrambled eggs were so good that I’ve been thinking about what I want to put next to them the next time he offers to cook breakfast—and these quick yeasted waffles are it. They come together fast, they get crispy in the way that makes a kitchen smell like a weekend, and they would sit perfectly on a plate beside soft scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice in a kitchen full of lilacs.
Quick Yeasted Waffles
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 packet (2 1/4 teaspoons) instant yeast
- 1 3/4 cups warm milk (about 110°F)
- 1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
- 2 large eggs
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- Nonstick cooking spray, for the waffle iron
Instructions
- Whisk the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, salt, and instant yeast until evenly combined.
- Combine the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the warm milk, melted butter, eggs, and vanilla extract until smooth.
- Make the batter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined. The batter will be slightly lumpy—do not overmix. Let the batter rest for 5 minutes while you preheat the waffle iron. It will puff slightly as the yeast activates.
- Preheat the waffle iron. Heat your waffle iron according to the manufacturer’s instructions and lightly coat with nonstick spray.
- Cook the waffles. Pour about 1/3 to 1/2 cup of batter onto the center of the hot waffle iron (amount varies by iron size). Close the lid and cook until the waffles are golden brown and crisp, about 3 to 5 minutes per waffle.
- Serve warm. Transfer cooked waffles to a wire rack set over a baking sheet in a 200°F oven to keep warm and crisp while you finish the remaining batter. Serve with butter, maple syrup, or fresh fruit.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 295 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 250mg