I have an uncomfortable confession to make today, one that has put me on the receiving end of many gasps and furrowed brows of late: Until July 14th, 2013, I had never made a waffle.
Now, there happens to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this failing, namely, that until just a few short months ago, I’d never consumed a waffle worth replicating. In fact, I think I’d sort of given up on the whole waffle genre. The waffle, I decided, may be a fine enough vehicle for maple syrup or whipped cream –or, in the case of a waffle I once had on Aza Street in Jerusalem, a heavy slick of Nutella– but it’s not much of a thing on its own.
I think you can see where this is going.
These waffles, the ones pictured here, changed everything. I’m a waffle eater now. I’m a waffle
maker now. I’ve even fallen in love with a waffle iron. I’m a woman transformed.
If you’re from around these parts, Cambridge, MA, or somewhere nearby, maybe you recognize where these photos were taken. It’s a fromagerie-charcuterie-grocery-bakery-wine shop called
Formaggio Kitchen that, as luck would have it, is just a quarter of an hour walk from where I live. When Mia was brand new and each day was approximately 3,479 hours long, and I had not a clue what to do with her or myself, I’d tie her onto my chest and we’d walk. Very often, we’d end up at Formaggio.
It was the perfect destination. The space itself is a tight squeeze, with an overflowing cheese counter and rows of jams, olive oils, heirloom beans, nuts, and produce arranged in nooks rather than aisles. You’re always walking a little sideways in there, inching your back along a shelf lined with chocolates to check out the honeys, for example, so tiny Mia got a close look at everything. Meanwhile, I got to talk to living, breathing, fully-grown humans! About food! (I’ve learned so much from these folks over the years.) Mia would bobble her head at the pastas. I’d taste some cheese. She’d pull my hair. I’d order a tub of anchovies. She’d pass out on my chest. I’d buy a Florentine for the walk home. These were proper outings.
Now that Mia is somewhat less tiny, she demands her own square of cheese on a toothpick when we go. Even on this Sunday morning in April, when we were there not for cheese, but for waffles.
Behold, the fate of that cheese.
This was Mia’s first-ever waffle, and it may as well have been mine. It was no ordinary waffle, not even an ordinary Belgian waffle. These were
gaufres de Liège. I had heard of the famed Liège waffle, but I’d never tried one. Have you? They start out as a rich, yeasted dough studded with pearl sugar. The crumb bakes up elastic and tender, like brioche, interrupted throughout by oozy sweet spots where the pearl sugar has melted. Any beads of sugar along the outside of the dough caramelize against the iron to form a crackly crust.
Alyssa, the bakery manager at Formaggio, had tasted
gaufres de Liège for the first time when she was working at a crêperie after college, and this past winter, she decided to develop a recipe of her own. She did a bang-up job (you can read about her process,
here) and in the spring, her waffles started showing up at Formaggio on select Sunday mornings. I was perfectly happy to trek over there for my fix, but a few weeks ago, I noticed there hadn’t been a waffle Sunday in a while. When I asked why, I was told that, for whatever reason, summer wasn't the season for waffles. People weren't snapping them up the way they had in cooler months. I do not know who these people are, these seasonal waffle eaters ruining it for the rest of us. They are not invited to waffles at my place, waffles at my place being a thing that happens, now that I’ve learned how to make them.
First, I had to buy a waffle iron, of course, a task that set me back a couple of weeks as I searched up and down for a model that anyone, anywhere was actually excited about. Even the best options out there are bulky single-purpose appliances that are, by all accounts, impossible to clean. Then, in the archives of
Cook’s Illustrated, I found
a review of the humble stovetop waffle iron. I liked the idea of something slender, easy to store, easy to clean (no electrical components, so you can drop it in the sink) and less expensive than many of the machines. I bought
the one highest up on the Cook's Illustrated list, and friends,
I love it.
This is going on a bit, so let’s skip ahead and I’ll say more about stovetop waffling, below, for anyone interested.
The waffles: I began with Alyssa’s painstakingly tested recipe and produced a truly excellent waffle. But I wanted a chewier, fluffier interior, a real contrast against the crisp, caramelized crust. So I did some research, got some first-rate guidance from my friend
Andrew, a supremely talented baker and editor at
Cook’s Illustrated, tweaked the ingredients, altered the procedure, and tried again. After three variations (all variations of awesome, you should know), I had my –and now your– waffle. I took it for one more spin last week, just to be sure. I am sure.
I don’t normally get my camera so close and personal with my plate of food, but when I broke open a waffle from my final batch, I just had to show you this crumb. (Click on the photo to see it bigger.) (Do it.)
Happy waffling.
Liège Waffles (Gaufres de Liège) Adapted from
Alyssa’s recipe at
Formaggio Kitchen and a recipe from the
Liège Waffle Recipe blog, with guidance from
Andrew JanjigianA few notes:
On waffle irons: If you already own an electric waffle maker, then by all means, use it. Alyssa makes her waffles in a CuisinArt Belgian Waffle Maker, sets the heat to just below 3 (on a scale from 1 to 5), and cooks the waffles for about five minutes. If you’re in the market for a waffle maker, I highly recommend a stovetop model. I have
this one, from Nordic Ware. It’s made of cast aluminum with a water-based silicone non-stick coating (not Teflon) on the inside. The top and bottom of the iron come apart for easy cleaning. My one complaint is that the outside scratches easily, but that’s aluminum for you. Of course, stovetop waffle making requires more of your attention than throwing dough into an appliance, but no more attention than frying an egg or flipping pancakes. It may take you a burnt or underdone waffle or two to get the hang of it, but soon you’ll have them just right.
In the recipe below, I’ve included instructions for cooking the waffles on a stovetop iron. I’ve found that the key to perfectly cooked waffles is keeping the heat at medium-low. Cast aluminum heats quickly and retains that heat well; anything hotter and the exterior will burn before the waffle has cooked through. Also, you want the bottom plate, the one against the stovetop, to be plenty hot when you add dough to the iron. Which means that when you remove the finished waffles from the iron, do not flip the iron over before beginning the next batch.
On weight versus volume: I’ve been baking more and more by weight instead of volume and I’m hooked. It’s easy, precise, and my results are super consistent. If you measure the flour in this recipe by volume (cups) instead of weight, be sure to stir up your flour, spoon the flour into your measuring cup, and sweep off the excess with the back of a straight-edged knife. If you use the scoop and sweep method instead, you’ll end up with too much flour.
On yeast: This recipe calls for instant dry yeast (IDY) rather than active dry yeast (ADY). Instant dry yeast is all I ever keep around. It’s easier to use because there’s no need to dissolve it in liquid; you just add it to your dry ingredients and you’re off. I once assumed that there must be some kind of additive involved to make instant yeast “instant,” and I didn’t like the idea of that. But nope, it’s just yeast. I asked my friend Andrew about the real difference between IDY and ADY, and he gave me the scoop: ADY is coated with a layer of dead yeast that must be dissolved in order for the yeast to activate. That’s why you have to proof it. The reason that you use about 30% less IDY than ADY in any given recipe is because IDY is all viable yeast (no dead yeast coating). There’s no difference in flavor between the two.
On the sugar: If you’re having trouble finding Belgian pearl sugar in stores, you can find it online
here. Alyssa's recipe calls for ¾ cup pearl sugar, which is great for the caramelizing action on the outside of the waffles, but so sweet that my tongue ached when I was through. I cut the sugar to ½ cup, and while you end up with fewer candied bits in and around the waffles, the sweetness is pleasantly toned down.
2 cups (240 g) bread flour (see note, above)
1 teaspoon (3 g) instant dry yeast
¼ cup (60 g) whole milk, at room temperature
2 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons (40 g) water
1 large egg, at room temperature, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon (20 g) light brown sugar
¾ teaspoon (4.5 g) salt
8 tablespoons (113 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 tablespoon (15 g) honey
2 teaspoons (10 ml) vanilla
½ - ¾ cup (100 g) pearl sugar (see note, above)
Whisk together the instant dry yeast and 2/3 cup (80 g) of the bread flour in the bowl of a stand mixer. In a separate bowl, mix the milk, water, and egg. Add the wet ingredients to the flour and yeast measure, stir to moisten the yeast, and sprinkle the remaining 1 1/3 cup (160 g) of bread flour on top. Do not mix in. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let stand for 60-90 minutes, until the batter is bubbling up through the cover of flour.
Add the brown sugar and salt, and mix on low speed with the paddle attachment until just combined. With the machine still on low, add the honey and vanilla, then the butter, 2 tablespoons (30 g) at a time. When the butter is fully incorporated, switch to the dough hook attachment. Mix for four minutes at medium-low speed, stopping to scrape down the sides of the bowl once or twice. Let the dough rest for 1 minute, then continue mixing until the dough stretches rather than breaks, and starts to pull away from the sides of the bowl. If it takes longer than 2-3 minutes (it did for me), let the dough rest again for 1 minute, then mix for another 2-3 minutes.
Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator overnight.
In the morning, mix the pearl sugar into the dough by hand. Separate the dough into 110 gram chunks (about 3 tablespoons per waffle), and shape each one into a ball. Place on a wax paper-lined cookie sheet, cover loosely with plastic wrap, and let rise for 90 minutes, until puffy.
If using a stovetop iron: When the dough is ready, heat your iron over a medium-low flame for 4 minutes, then flip it over and heat the other side for the same amount of time. Transfer the dough balls to your heated waffle iron (I’d start with just one, to get the hang of things), close the iron, and cook for 45 seconds. Flip the iron over and cook for four minutes. Your waffles should be done enough at this point so that they won’t stick to iron. Open the iron for a peek, and if the waffles are still looking pale, cook for an additional couple of minutes, until the crust is brown and the sugar on the surface has caramelized.
Transfer waffles to a rack and cool for several minutes before serving.
Makes 6 waffles.