Last updated on April 8th, 2019
All week long, I look forward to brunch. Who’s with me? Sunday afternoon brunch with my hair still frazzled and jammies under my apron. The kind of slow Sunday where you prepare gluten-free sweet amaranth waffles flecked with cinnamon and nutmeg, while spiced chai poached pears simmer on the stove as topping.
This past weekend, our Sunday brunch was Texas BBQ with my husband’s extended family in San Antonio – ribs, brisket, sausage, and potato salad. And don’t get me wrong, I thought long and hard about smuggling a rack of ribs home in my luggage, but at the end of a week of Texas BBQ, I’m ready for some whole grains and a lazy Sunday.
We just got home from a highly choreographed week of travel that almost unravelled an hour before our flight, and not even from one of the major predictable things that could have gone wrong.
I spent two days in Seattle with KitchenAid, while Lucas stayed home all alone with the baby for the first time. The plan was for me to land back in Oakland at 8:07am on Wednesday, where they’d be waiting in the terminal to catch our 9:50am flight to Austin together. I pre-packed Zoella’s suitcase and left Lucas with an excessively detailed checklist to help with getting the baby and all the luggage to the airport and through security by himself (relatedly: do you know how much shit a baby needs?!).
Off without a hitch: My morning flight was on time (whew!), Lucas actually woke up to his 6am alarm (magic!), and Zoella held it together all the way to the airport.
Things were going smoothly, until the ticket agent insisted Lucas show official proof that our 8 month old baby was less than 2 years old. Before you’re like, “well that’s protocol” – I called ahead to add her as a lap child and they told me that she was so young we didn’t need a birth certificate. Sadly it turns out her instagram baby pictures don’t count as proof.
Aside from, you know, looking at her as proof, they eventually reluctantly accepted a screenshot of her birthday on the health insurance website – probably persuaded by the panic on Lucas’s face.
To be fair, when they went through security, the TSA agent asked, “if you take her out of the carrier, can she walk through the metal detector?” So I’m pretty sure the folks who work at Oakland Airport have never met a baby before.
Now we’re ready for waffles. Back when I shared my savory amaranth waffles with pear fennel salad, I promised a sweet companion for them, but instead teased you with the spiced chai pear topping first. This Sunday, we can both look forward to waffles and you can have both sweet and savory. This sweet rendition is kissed with nutmeg and cinnamon and a hint of sugar. Earthy nutty amaranth balances nicely with the spiced chai poached pears and honeyed pear syrup. A few sprinklings of candied popped amaranth to add some crunch and a dollop of whipped cream clouds to finish it all off.
It’s like an ice cream sundae in waffle form. (Also I want to put this candied popped amaranth on all my ice cream sundaes…)
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Gluten-Free Sweet Amaranth Waffles
Candied Popped Amaranth & Whipped Cream (optional)
Gluten-Free Sweet Amaranth Waffles
Spiced Chai Poached Pears & Pear Syrup
Candied Popped Amaranth