On November 1st, All Saints’ Day, it has been a tradition in my family to get all together after going to the cemetery, to eat waffles. I still remember going to my Tante Yvonne (she actually was my great-aunt) and meeting aunts, uncles and cousins there for waffles.
Tante Yvonne was a petite but formidable woman, a force to be reckoned with. She had been a teacher for more than 40 years and knew everyone in the village she lived in... and everyone knew Mademoiselle Yvonne. She had a generous heart but was strict and demanding. I remember rules about not sitting on a specific sofa or following her directions when visiting my grand-father, her brother. But I also remember trips to the market, or learning to play solitaire with her. And then, there were the waffles. Mmmm, just like Proust’s madeleines, I remember the smell permeating the whole house, this yeasty smell, and the crunch of the waffles when they just come out of the waffle maker and putting powdered sugar on them...
Since my Tante Yvonne passed away, the tradition was taken over by my mother’s oldest sister, my Tante Yvette. The family with its extensions as our generation got engaged, married and had children, but it’s still going on. Every year, I receive notice or I hear about the get-together and the waffles.
Tante Yvonne was a petite but formidable woman, a force to be reckoned with. She had been a teacher for more than 40 years and knew everyone in the village she lived in... and everyone knew Mademoiselle Yvonne. She had a generous heart but was strict and demanding. I remember rules about not sitting on a specific sofa or following her directions when visiting my grand-father, her brother. But I also remember trips to the market, or learning to play solitaire with her. And then, there were the waffles. Mmmm, just like Proust’s madeleines, I remember the smell permeating the whole house, this yeasty smell, and the crunch of the waffles when they just come out of the waffle maker and putting powdered sugar on them...
Since my Tante Yvonne passed away, the tradition was taken over by my mother’s oldest sister, my Tante Yvette. The family with its extensions as our generation got engaged, married and had children, but it’s still going on. Every year, I receive notice or I hear about the get-together and the waffles.
Living so far away from home, I created my own tradition. My Tante Yvette shared the family recipe with me and every year, I make these waffles on November 1st. In the last few years, I have started inviting friends over to share. I set up in my garage, very informal, folding tables and chairs and paper products. I make the waffles right then and there and serve hot chocolate. We’ve had years where the weather was so nice, we had the garage door open and people going in and out. Other years, it was so cold, we needed a heater. I’ve had years with many guests and some years with not so many. There are some for whom it has become a real tradition to come over to my house for waffles. All in all, the tradition continues even with a different twist.
RSS Feed