I am a waffle whore. Nevermind my anti-Belgian prejudice and Yankee syrup snobbery, there are few waffles that don't attract me and no restaurant with waffle in its name that I don't automatically like, from Lo Lo's Chicken and Waffles (in Phoenix) to Waffle House (everywhere). So when I was told about The Waffle in Los Angeles, I was on my way.
Apparently, it is a happening place later in the day; it serves cocktails to a cool crowd and stays open until wee hours on weekends. The squareness of its waffle menu has garnered a retro-chic admiration society. But I arrived at the wrong time to see any such stylin'. On Saturday morning at 7:45, 15 minutes after opening, I was the one and only customer; by the time I left at 8:30, four others had come in: a couple and a weekend daddy with his daughter. It could have been an ordinary diner anywhere. Fittingly, coffee is presented with a stirrer already in the mug; and it gets topped off with hash-house regularity.
The Waffle's waffles are big Belgian rectangles, but light and crisp rather than doughy; and they have the eggy flavor that morning meals want. Each comes with a couple of little butter tubs, and although the butter is soft, there is no way easily to spread it on a tile with treads so big. Some holes get more, others less or none. Each trough holds massive amounts of syrup. All sorts of waffles are available, including ones with pecans or bacon baked in, multi-grains, gluten-frees, and even a red velvet waffle. You get two to an order, I tried the sticky bun variation, a plain waffle topped with the sort of goo that adorns Cinnabons: unjustifiable by any meaningful culinary or nutrition standards, but hard not to eat.
There are plenty of non-waffle breakfasts as well as a full menu of sandwiches, soups, and milk shakes, as well as several vegetarian and vegan offerings.