When I use "cookie" as an adjective for these waffles, you best believe I am not messin' around.
Waffles are one of the many intimate connections between my dad and I, born of a casual night browsing the shelves of a Sur La Table (I fell in love at first entrance). Cookbook sections of stores are always always always my go-to, hence the growing stack of those on my nightstand and the shrinking supply of money in my wallet for new clothes. Naturally, the shelves spanning an entire wall drew me in effortlessly and Dad followed suit.
I flipped through plant-based cookbooks and he liked the more ethnic-focused ones. We both grew googly eyes at the sight of one titled "Waffles", or maybe I should give due credit to its capitalized title as "WAFFLES" because that deserves attention, right? Anyway, a cookbook all about waffles ended up in our shopping cart and the next morning, waffles ended up on Dad's breakfast plate.
We kissed goodbye to frozen waffles and graciously welcomed in the variety of sweet and savory ones for which this book provides recipes. For the last three years, I've been making him some old-fashioned buttermilk waffles using a recipe he picked out from the book. One of his main concerns when I left for college was who would make him the waffles?? Mom could, of course, but as I said before, this book is a connection between Dad and me. Sorry, mom. Besides, you're already his wife and you have a ring. Dibs on the waffle book.
K. All happy things between Dad and me. Love him. Love him a lot, BUT...
... he doesn't think chocolate chips belong in breakfast foods. He doesn't really think chocolate chips belong anywhere, actually. COME ON DAD.
He's more of a blueberry-waffle/pancake person, more of an oatmeal-raisin-cookie kind of guy than a chocolate-chip-cookie kind of guy. Hmmm. I've tried to change him! I've tried, but a girl can only do so much and, besides, I would hate to "ruin" some of his favorite waffles by adding a few chocolate chips to them to try and bring him over to the dark (chocolate chip) side. Dad > chocolate chips.
But, the argument that chocolate chip cookie waffles > blueberry waffles can also be made, right? When you're living on your own, making your own dang waffles sans recipe book and sans blueberries, chocolate chips are warmly welcomed. Speaking of such, I'd like to take a hot second to appreciate how crispy and melty the peek-a-boo chocolate chips become in the waffle iron. It's such a beautiful transfer of heat energy. That's my kind of thermodynamics!
So, Dad, these waffles are not for you. You can make them for you (and all the other chocolate chip haters out there) by replacing the chips with frozen or fresh blueberries because - not to toot my own horn - the batter itself it's pretty dang magical.
Waffles with an ability to please Dad, me, Mom (she'd be fine with blueberries and/or chocolate chips), and hopefully you, too? SUCCESS.
Makes 2-3 waffles
1 cup whole-wheat flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2/3 cup almond milk
1 tbsp. apple cider vinegar
3 tbsp. almond butter (can sub other nut/seed butter)
1 tbsp. maple syrup (can sub honey)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. sea salt
1/2 cup dark chocolate chips
Oil or butter, for the waffle iron
- Begin by combining the dry ingredients in a large bowl - whole-wheat flour, baking powder, baking soda, and sea salt. Set aside.
- In a smaller bowl, whisk together the almond milk, apple cider vinegar, egg, almond butter, maple syrup/honey, and vanilla extract. Pour into the dry ingredients and stir to combine. Fold in the chocolate chips.
- Heat a waffle iron and grease with oil or butter. Depending on the size of the waffle iron, pour about 1/4-1/3 cup of the batter onto the iron and close. Cook until golden brown and crisp on both sides. Remove and cool slightly.
- Serve with more maple syrup and any additional toppings. Store leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge for up to two weeks or in the freezer for up to two months.