Sweet Potato Waffles

The blog crossed three thousand five hundred readers this week, which I celebrate the way I celebrate every milestone: alone, in the kitchen, with a bowl of rice. The readers are coming for the Fumiko content — the grief writing, the recipe translations, the ongoing story of a granddaughter learning to cook a dead woman's food. I did not plan this trajectory. I planned a food blog. The universe planned a grief memoir disguised as a food blog, and the universe's plan is better than mine, which is annoying but accurate.

I made Fumiko's daigaku imo this week — candied sweet potatoes, cut into irregular chunks, deep-fried, then coated in a caramel of sugar, soy sauce, and sesame. It is festival food, street food, the kind of thing you eat walking through a Japanese market in autumn, your fingers sticky, the caramel cracking between your teeth. Fumiko made it every October. I am making it every October now. The calendar of food is also a calendar of grief, each dish a date I shared with a woman who is no longer sharing it, each bite a small memorial conducted in my kitchen while Miya watches from her step stool and the rain falls outside and the year turns and the recipes continue without the woman who wrote them.

I went to a therapist session that turned into a conversation about the marriage. My therapist asked, gently, whether I had considered that the marriage might not survive. The word "survive" hit me physically — a contraction in my chest, the anxiety responding to the word the way a body responds to a threat. I said I had not considered it. She said, "Consider it." Not as an instruction to leave. As an instruction to look at the truth, the whole truth, including the parts I have been covering with curry and onigiri and the daily kindness of cooked meals. The truth is: I am lonely in my marriage. The truth is: Brian drinks too much. The truth is: we are two people who love each other and cannot reach each other, and the distance is not closing, and the not-closing is its own form of answer.

I came home and made dashi. The ritual holds. The soup holds. The marriage — I do not know what the marriage holds. But the soup is warm and the bowl is here and the kitchen is mine and that is where I start. That is always where I start.

I made the daigaku imo because I had to — because October asked for it, because Fumiko asked for it through the calendar she left behind. But when Miya climbed down from her step stool and asked if we could make something together the next morning, I turned to sweet potatoes again, this time in a form that was mine, that was ours, that did not carry the full weight of memorial. These sweet potato waffles are not Fumiko’s recipe. They are the morning after Fumiko’s recipe — the same ingredient, softer light, a child beside me, the grief still present but quieter, folded into batter instead of caramel, still sweet, still October, still here.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 cup mashed cooked sweet potato (about 1 medium sweet potato)
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs, separated
1 cup buttermilk
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Cooking spray or additional butter for the waffle iron

Instructions

Cook the sweet potato. Prick a medium sweet potato all over with a fork and microwave on high for 5–7 minutes, turning once, until fully tender. Let cool slightly, then peel and mash until smooth. Measure out 1 cup and set aside.
Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt.
Combine the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the mashed sweet potato, egg yolks, buttermilk, melted butter, brown sugar, and vanilla extract until smooth and well combined.
Beat the egg whites. In a clean bowl, beat the egg whites with a hand mixer or whisk until soft peaks form. This step gives the waffles their lift and a slightly crisp exterior.
Bring the batter together. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined — a few lumps are fine. Gently fold in the beaten egg whites in two additions, being careful not to deflate them.
Cook the waffles. Preheat your waffle iron and lightly coat with cooking spray or butter. Pour enough batter to fill your waffle iron (about 3/4 cup for a standard iron). Cook according to the manufacturer’s instructions, typically 4–5 minutes, until golden and crisp. Repeat with remaining batter.
Serve warm. Serve immediately with maple syrup, a dusting of powdered sugar, or a pat of butter. For an autumn touch, a drizzle of warm honey and a pinch of flaky salt works beautifully.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sweet Potato Waffles — The Calendar of Food, the Calendar of Grief