I like to imagine the moment when Chicken and Waffles were first united like this:
It’s 5:30am. The all-night fry-joint is just getting ready to flip over for morning service. The waitress is giving the corner table it’s millionth wipe before putting on coffee. Hasn’t been a customer for two hours, and won’t be for another hour and a half. The lone dude in the kitchen has pre-maturely drained the fryers, and is soaking the flat-top in grease, preparing it for the 7am landslide of eggs and breakfast sausages. He’s completely on autopilot, eyes un-focused. He hates the night shift, and wonders if there’s any coffee left… Then the door bell sounds.
What the hell? Who wants to eat at 5:45am? (more…)