One of my favorite memories from growing up is Sunday morning waffles.  Every Sunday my dad would get up and get the paper, head up to the kitchen and pull out The Joy of Cooking turn to page 801 and whip up amazing waffles from scratch. He would stand around the kitchen for at least an hour every Sunday drinking coffee, reading the paper, and pulling waffles from the waffle maker. Occasionally yelling at us to get out of bed for breakfast, usually in our teen years.

I didn’t realize how much I loved and found comfort in this family tradition until I had come home for college the first time. That first Sunday back, there were the waffles! I’ve come to expect them every time I visit. Now with both kids grown and out of the house waffles aren’t always made on Sundays. So I have to special request them.

We now live 3, 000 miles from my parents and those yummy waffles. But I still expect to smell them every Sunday, so guess who’s carried the tradition on in her own home? That’s right… THIS GIRL!  With some help from G we have waffles every Saturday morning. I’m not as dedicated as my dad, most days I use Krustez pancake mix, but on occasion I’ll pull out my Joy of Cooking book, turn it to page 801 and whip up some yummy home-made waffles.

Some times preserving traditions looks an awful lot like stealing.