Wafflecake

     Brain food; without food, there would be no ideas. Have you ever seen artwork made by an actual starving artist? No, you haven’t, because starving people are too busy trying not to starve to make art. Well fed people, on the other hand, have plenty of ideas: just look at how quickly the income gap is widening*. So, if you want to be rich, you need to be well fed. Quod erat demonstrandum.

Leonard Weisgard: Alice in Wonderland

     But what to eat? The National Beef Cattlemen’s Association will have you believe that beef is what’s for dinner; while hamburger-glazed steak with gravy may be a well-balanced meal, we are all too aware of the lethargy that comes with eating five pounds of beef in one sitting, not to mention those unsexy meat-sweats. So, the morning after a night of partying that included two grown men doing battle over a rattle while wearing cooking pots as helmets, and a well-tailored zombie riding a chair as a horse (with impressive skill!), I found myself at the local bar, letting someone else make the decision for me.
     While my friends tried to convince me that I had been bitten by a dog, and that its hair was made of bloody marys, my eyes wandered to the TV above the bar, where Paula Deen was extolling the virtues of a lard-based diet. Today, she was making a cake... with what appeared to be... waffles? No, that wasn’t right. It was a regular, boring old bland cake with sugar frosting– although it did have three layers of bland. Maybe it was the tremendous amount of time my sausage, bacon, eggs, home fries, and cheese scramble was taking to make its way to my table, but I couldn’t understand why Paula would forsake the glorious waffle in favor of boring old cake? So, it became my solemn duty to invent wafflecake. I scarfed my breakfast of champions, marched home, and drew up a schematic:


For those not familiar with food construction shorthand: (bottom to top) that’s a waffle, mascarpone cheese, blueberries, and another waffle, topped with buttercream frosting (for Paula). In the final execution, a foundation of another waffle, mascarpone and blueberry sauce is added.

Of course, an idea without details is simply a hunch. So, allow me to posit some theories on waffle cake creation: Like any food, there’s the high-class version served to dignitaries visiting remote outposts where residents are starved for real human contact, the average version served by socially well-adjusted people on all manner of occasions, and the barely-considered-actual-food version compiled by individuals who have been shunned by society and gone so far as to denounce contact with other civilized folks as “so pre-internet”. I’m aiming for somewhere in between your average, casual dessert encounter and, “Oh, it’s so good to see someone! Do stay. Forever. I insist.”

Waffles: While Eggo passes as waffles in some quarters, I’ve never actually heard someone say “leggo my Eggo”. Belgian waffles are the gold standard here. Ideally, you should own a waffle maker. Not just for this recipe, but in life. Also, don’t bother with Bisquick. Waffles have about 6 ingredients, and if you don’t have butter and flour in your house, you probably are not my target audience anyway. Pro tip: replace 1/2 the milk in the recipe with yogurt. You’re welcome. 

Mascarpone: OK, this may sound a bit weird, but anyone who has baked with cream cheese knows that it works with pretty much anything. Rather, everything works with mascarpone.

Blueberry Sauce: I like to keep things simple. Your version of simple may be sprinkling blueberries on top of each waffle layer. Mine is to heat some berries in a saucepan with some lemon juice, until they ooze and make a delicious sauce you can pour on the waffles.

Buttercream: This is really what makes it a cake. I suppose you can buy frosting, but again, we’re talking two ingredients here: butter, sugar. Make your own. It’ll impress whomever you’re serving it to. And let’s face it, you’re only baking to impress someone.

I actually made one of these, and served it after a rather large dinner. The verdict: “I can’t stop eating this– it’s so frickin’ good!” Note that I am friends with one of the six people under 50 on this earth who say “frickin’”. I prefer to put sailors to shame with my language.

I am personally not a fan of adding unnecessary sugar to foods (the buttercream on your average piece of wafflecake accounts for 530% of your average weekly recommended intake of sugar), but if you insist you don’t have a sugar problem, and don’t believe in diabetes, you could always add maple syrup in there somewhere. That said, it helps to have at least 7 friends to share this with. Alternatively, you can make one waffle, cut it into quarters, and make one (big) slice at a time.

Now go forth and impress your friends, loved ones, and stalkees. Feel free to post pictures in the comments section (can you do that on Blogger?), especially if you’re giving one to a stalkee.


*A good, concise source: Infographic by Bill Marsh of NY Times.