It was in a previous post last year “The Queen of England (off to see her)” that I said:
There were many holidays spent at aunt Norma’s house in Zululand.
I was in my preteen and teen years at the time.
Some memories from my visit’s stick like gum:
- fishing with uncle Mike
- him sending me in the water only to be greeted by a large eel instead of a fish
- burning my new trainers in the fire that same trip
- uncle later giving me the same eel for dinner
- my cousin’s boyfriend’s Yamaha DT 50 motorcycle
- the rides allowed on this motorcycle to “give them space”
- my other cousin giving me a rude introduction to Tequila
- my aunt “exploding” food from her pressure cooker all over the kitchen roof
- carefree holidays
- JAFFLES for breakfast lunch supper and whenever else possible
I enjoyed the tasty jaffles so much that my aunt bought me my own jaffle maker, which I still have kept nestled away in my cupboard.
It’s now 30 years later. The jaffle maker is out…
Now to make a top-class jaffle you need super hot filling. Think of it as a “pie made of bread”.
You wouldn’t eat a lettuce and tomato pie now, would you?
So to bring the jaffle maker back to life in a respectable manner, Timol and I went for a spicy chicken curry filling.
Albany Best of Both was our choice of bread.
The two slices of bread were buttered on either side, before a dollop of curry was placed in between (not too much otherwise it “blows” out the sides.
The really naughty part: grate and throw some cheese on the curry before making the sandwich.
Place the sandwich into the jaffle maker, squeeze it shut and attach the clip.
Remove the crusts if they don’t fall off the sides.
Place onto the hot stove.
I always turn the jaffle maker over every few minutes and open it to check progress.
The jaffle above was a little “overloaded”.
When ready (lightly browned or darker if you prefer); place the jaffle onto a plate and munch away (do let it cool down slightly first).
Thank you to aunt Norma, uncle Mike and their daughters for all the wonderful memories, looking after me like one of your own and never telling my parent’s all the naughty things I did.