Maison Mathis. Remember that name. When I am in the throes of a mental collapse, I will not remember what caused it, but now you know.
MM - as I like to call it - is a Belgian restaurant in a city I frequently visit. They have the best croissants and waffles. By far. No other eatery even comes close to the quality of their products. They also have amazing omelets and smoothies. The restaurant has great ambiance and sits a few blocs from where I stay. On every trip, I make a stop at MM looking for croissants or waffles.
To my utter dismay, MM never ever has croissants or waffles for me. Never. Croissants aren't ready till nine in the morning! No waffles after six pm! What is the point of calling yourself a Belgian restaurant if you aren't going to serve Belgian waffles on-demand?! It's like an Indian restaurant without butter chicken and a burger joint sans fries. Unreal! They cause me so much trauma that my phone is littered with text messages to Tarun about Maison Mathis. Let me tell you, it takes a lot to get me upper-case annoyed!
This Monday, I planned my entire day around waffles. Breakfast was light and lunch was timed. I arrived at MM at 5:22pm, 38 minutes before the end of the world. I was one determined girl: If their waffle iron was not on or their cook was sick, I was going to jump behind the counter and MAKE ME A WAFFLE! If they didn't let me, I was going to throw myself on the floor and wail.
With fingers crossed behind my back, I ordered a waffle and...wow...there was no resistance! Batter check, iron check, chef check. I sat by the window and savored the pre-waffle joy.
And when the waffle arrived, it was hard to take pictures because I simply wanted to dive in.
It didn't take long to polish off this beauty.
I lingered for a while afterwards, licking my lips and admiring the folks chilling with their devices or relishing waffles with family and friends. At 5:59 pm, I quietly exited before Maison Mathis could turn me into a pumpkin.
For now, the elusive waffle has been had. My mental health has been restored. And Maison Mathis is back in my good grace...until I need a waffle fix again.
(If you've got to the end, you are likely thinking what a super-entitled-poor-me character she is. Look at it this way - it doesn't take much to make me happy. Just a plateful of carbs!)
