Tuesday, November 10, 2009

"would you like some badass with that waffle, miss?"


Morning after morning, I would stare longingly at the waffles being pressed by the waffle man at Jég Büfé, and each time I approached him, I got a steely look in the eye, and found myself scurrying away for a poppy seed roll instead. I was deliciously intimidated by him, and enjoyed this funny little morning ritual of fear. Friday was the day, I decided, that I would get a damn waffle. I would look the world's most badass waffle man in the eye and order what I had craved for days— and I would eat it with great relish.

I walked up to the window with my head held high, and having practiced my Hungarian pronunciation, read off precisely what I wanted. He grunted and began pouring the batter.

Was this man a commando? Did he wrestle bears? Who was he?
A vanilla custard-filled waffle was thrust into my eager cold hands.

"Köszönöm!" I grinned with satisfaction.

A large smile spread across his face, and his eyes changed from steel to warmth.

"Szívesen."

5 comments:

Thomas Taylor said...

If you want a waffle you should always gaufre it, ho ho ho.

Sorry, bad Belgian pun.

szaza said...

HAHAHA! I love it!
Haha!

black bear cabin said...

mmmm...looks yummy! :)

Tschöppy said...

The hungarians call it Gofri :)

szaza said...

Gofri— like gaufre in French! Thanks :)