It is no secret that I love eating vaflar – waffles – as often as I can. Recently I read a post about rømmevflar at What's For Lunch, Honey? and it left me with an urge to bake a batch there and then. Reading what she wrote is always lovely, but since bloggers rarely write about Norway and our cuisine, it was extra special to read that paticular post.
Making waffles reminds me of my grandmother, my mormor, everytime I pop over for a visit. Like most grandmothers in Norway, mine begins making a batch of waffles the minute I ring to inform her I'm visiting. ''Ja, den er greit, berre kom! Eg skal laga vaflar til deg,'' (Yes, sure, just come. I'll make waffles) she'll reply. ''Med bringebærsyltetøy?'' (With raspberry jam?) I ask, hoping against hope she still has a jar of jam left. I don't have to ask. She always does.