Good for the heart (attack)

Yeah, I don’t know exactly how this fits into the theme of this blog.

It’s sort of anti-commercial, which is a recurring theme on The Dew Abides. It’s sort of about food, which, you may have noticed, we talk a bit about as well.

But I’m not talking about farm-to-table food here. Or organic stuff. Or saving the environment.

I’m talking about Valentine’s Day dinner. At the Waffle House.

This makes the second year in a row Jenn and I have done this, and I need to say that it feels pretty damn good. There’s no line. There’s no reservation. There’s only about eight minutes between you and a big, greasy plate of scatteredsmotheredcoveredchoppedchunkedanddiced hash browns. And a Diet Coke, of course. Gotta watch the calories.

Photo courtesy of Cavale Doom.

Last year there was a little more fanfare. I did make a reservation. And there were candles on the tables, which were covered with white tablecloths — it wasn’t linen, mind you, and our plastic might’ve had a melty spot from a candle accident, but hey, they don’t get many chances to actually light candles at the Waffle House, so cut ’em a break. Oh, and I didn’t tell Jenn where we were going that year. In fact, I blindfolded her until we were parked.

And she was delighted, which affirms why I love her so.

For whatever reason, our local Awful Waffles didn’t take part in the national Valentine’s event this year, but we went anyway. And we were still smiling like canary-eating-cats on the way home.

Is Valentine’s Day a Hallmark holiday? You betcha. That’s why I’ve always been fond of ironic V-Day songs, like Steve Earle’s, or the Old 97’s’s. But Hallmark’s got you right by the pecan waffles, don’t they? Because who’s gonna be the schmuck who doesn’t try to show his wife that he really loves her? I think what we’ve discovered is this: Playing against type for this special day’s dinner is the best of all worlds. We binged a bit on the ol’ diet, we’re set back a total of $12.80, and life is good.

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