Like most Saturday mornings, I wake up somewhere between 7:30 and 8:30 once again questioning why my circadian clock insists on my waking up early despite going to sleep at 1:00 in the morning. Accepting of my fate, I roll over my sheets and sit up. My eyes begin to open to the idea of what there will be for brunch today and what I can use to test my culinary creativity. A sense of hunger, awakens my desire for the wonderful weekend brunch, but I ignore its plea. While scanning my room with half-opened eyes, I ask myself the honest question that most teenagers ask themselves on the weekend. What can I do with my time between now and my next meal, in this case brunch? Across the room I spy my 3DS and remember that I have a long overdue date with a couple rounds of Super Smash Bros. My feet meet the cold, hardwood floor sending a slight shiver up the back of my legs, and my knees make a high-pitched pop as I stand up and make my way over to my desk. My chair, sadly, sends shivers through my skin as I sit. It, too, is touched by the night’s chill. A few rounds of Smash quickly turn into a marathon accompanied with some pointless Youtube videos, scattered banjo and ukulele sessions, and failed attempts to accomplish anything productive with my time. After a few hours, hunger returns, this time with an army of moans and groans that cannot be pushed aside. Fortunately, the assault could not have been timed better as the clock just reaches 11:25, five minutes till brunch. Deciding to get away from the stagnant life of my room, I throw on a sweatshirt from the floor and my slippers from opposite sides of the room from each other and gallop my way down the stairs.
I open the door of the dorms and immediately regret my decision to wear only one layer. Fortunately, the shining sun gives me a warm hug, the view of the Tappan Zee Bridge shines its steel in the sunlight, the Hudson Valley fades to a pale blue, and I’m about to get myself some of the great culinary festivities that is brunch. With a smile from ear to ear, I walk down to the dining hall. As I open the doors, a wave of warm air with the wonderful and welcoming aroma of bacon rushes out in all of its meaty, greasy splendor. The scent pulls my nose up the stairs and to the opening where I can see what delights are offered to me today. Out of the corner of my eye I see something that immediately ends my survey without further question. Nutella. I am given a golden opportunity and I know what has to be done.
Driven by this rare chance, I rush towards the waffle line, which is thankfully empty, and set a waffle to cooking. First, of course, I grab the ladle in the mix and spin it along the edges of the bowl creating a waffle batter whirlpool. Once the vortex reaches the edges of the bowl, nearly spilling out, I make a sharp turn with the ladle in the opposite direction, take the batter that filled up, and drop it into the maker. After my fun I walk over to the fruit to find myself the biggest, yellowest, and firmest banana I can possibly find, free of any unsatisfactory brown spots. By the time my search is completed, so too is my waffle. Now with my waffle and banana, I move over to the Nutella. I take the spreading knife, scoop up overly generous amounts of this thick, sweet delicacy, and spread it all over my waffle. It’s to the point where some cheeky fellow could easily make the “Would you like some waffle with your Nutella?” joke. Satisfied with my solid quarter-inch layer of Nutella, I proceed to cut thin slices of banana and carefully place them along only one half of the waffle. My work is almost complete. I sit down, lift one side of the waffle, and fold it over the other side. As the folding seam slightly tears and the two sides become one, the stars seem to align. These three simple ingredients, waffle, banana, and Nutella have come together in perfect harmony to create a masterpiece. Behold the banana Nutella waffle taco!
With great anticipation, I lift up my creation, take my first bite, and shudder from this heavenly revelation. My eyes quiver, my shoulders drop low, a sensation runs through my mouth to the ends of my fingertips, and I let out the most satisfactory “Mmmmm.” Each bite is like listening to the chorus of a favorite song, it never gets old. The waffle gives the taste support and the banana adds its own unique twist while the Nutella takes the lead in this magnificent performance. After the show, I lean back and take a sip of my crenade (a mix of lemonade and cranberry juice, you should try it). It is truly one of the best things I have ever tasted. With the taste still lingering in my mouth, I look down at my empty plate; I then get up and proceed to go make another one, with absolutely no shame whatsoever.