Waffle Saturdays

Turns out owning a single-use kitchen gadget is a great excuse to gather

- By Hua Hsu

The morning after the 2016 election, I woke up with a hangover and a dim memory of having done something rash the night before. I checked my email and confirmed that I had, indeed, ordered a waffle maker.

I'd bought the fancy, hotel-grade kind that weighs 10 pounds and features a rotating handle, internal temperature controls, and different settings for browning. I like waffles, but not that much. While my wife loves waffles, she hates single-use kitchen gadgetry, especially if they require their own shelf in the cabinet. Our son, just a few months old, was too young to have any legitimate opinions on solid food.

My extravagant impulse purchase offered distraction that November as scenes of American fracture flooded the timeline. I sought a temporary retreat into a more manageable world. I needed new routines.

When the waffle maker arrived, I experimented with various recipes, always making far too many for two people to eat. Clearly, we needed more mouths to feed—and owning this ridiculous thing provided a great excuse for having people over—so we decided to open our home on Saturdays to anyone who shared our desire to bask in the good vibes of others. We circulated a sign-up spreadsheet to close friends, friends of friends, coworkers, former students at the college where I taught, far-flung pals who might be passing through New York, fond acquaintances. We promised to provide waffles and eggs and to introduce them to delightful strangers.