When Elvis Presley released “Blue Christmas” in 1964, he probably never imagined it rumbling from the Waffle House jukebox on Christmas Eve fifty years later. The night before Christmas, my family and I always celebrate with a wonderfully unhealthy meal and some vintage holiday tunes. It may not be the fanciest of holiday dinners, but everyone loves not having to wash dirty dishes before Santa comes. Christmas Eve Waffle House will become your best tradition yet with the legendary food, old-fashioned holiday spirit and the sweet spontaneity of breakfast for dinner.
Imagine this: you walk into the local restaurant, greeted by the friendly smiles of the employees as they holler a spirited welcome your way. Meanwhile, one waitress loudly calls in the chef’s next task, “ORDER TWO EGGS OVER MEDIUM, DROP ONE WAFFLE, MARK ONE HASHBROWN, SMOTHERED AND COVERED.” The crack of the eggs and crackle of the potatoes hitting the stovetop gets your stomach growling.
Around the restaurant, most of the tables appear sparse, apart from an elderly couple and a young family enjoying their bitter coffee late in the night. The greasy floors try to cause a wipeout, but you’re am too distracted by the aroma of sweet waffles and the pleasant sound of sizzling bacon to care at all.
The table smells of the cheap wipes that were used to clean it, but you and your family squeeze into the small booth anyway. Everyone grabs a sticky menu, despite knowing deep down there is only one item to order on Christmas Eve: the All-Star Special. Scrumptious, magical goodness, this dish calls your name days before you enter Waffle House. No time is wasted before you order the rare breakfast for dinner and take in the holiday spirit—the employees’ reindeer antlers, the light fixtures adorned in Santa hats, and of course, the life-size Norman Rockwell Santa Claus poster that beckons passing drivers, “Eat at WAHO-Ho-Ho!”
Change jingles in your purse, rummaging for a few coins to spare on the magical jukebox. You run over to the window of opportunity and instantly, Elvis Presley’s voice fills the room. Smiles light up the faces of every person in the restaurant as they sing along to “Blue Christmas.”
A delightful smoke wisps off the stove and a salty, greasy joy reaches your nose. Your taste buds are watering. By the time Mariah Carey takes over for Presley, the food is finally approaches your table and your fork moves faster than your mouth can. The beautiful meal, coated in a plethora of butter, is simply irresistible. One bite, and you can taste the magical sensation that is homemade grits, crispy bacon, and a warm waffle, cooked to a golden perfection right before it burns. Gooey syrup drizzles across your gorgeous plate, reminding you why you should never diet. Simultaneous sighs come out of your mouths as every stomach grumbles with happiness; no words are necessary to capture the bliss you feel at that moment.
Throughout the meal, every last calorie is savored to the tune of “Winter Wonderland” combined with some chuckles from the kitchen as the employees sing along. The cha-ching of the old cash register startles you, but you notice the paying customer reaches long into his wallet to leave a generous tip. You wipe the remnants of the annual feast off your face, wave farewell to Santa and his server elves, and take in one last whiff of the best holiday dinner, “smothered and covered” with pure joy.
