Ivan S.
Yelp
The theory of a Waffle House museum by itself is worth a veritable googolplex of stars. Who among us hasn't marveled over the selection of Waffle House songs in their jukebox, gazed jaws agape at the speed of the short order cook, or dry heaved in a corner booth at 4 in the morning while regretting being talked into those last couple of tequila shots? No? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? OK, maybe it's just me, but the ubiquity of the Awful Waffle inspires more than just a little bit of curiosity. I mean, how DID it get started? Why are they all that shape and size? How did they come up with that number of hash brown combinations when countless engineers and full-on mathematicians I know couldn't replicate their numbers (More on that later.) In fact, how did a place called The Waffle House become known more for their hash browns than anything else? So yes, I was intrigued enough to head to Avondale to see the Waffle House Museum.
Unfortunately, as I covered earlier, though the theory of a WH museum can't be topped, its execution is more scattered and dicey, ultimately smothering the whole experience. Why? First, it's not open to the public. Viewing is by appointment; the number is on their website. However, they've been holding several open houses, free to the general public, lately and that's how I got in.
There are two sections: the memorabilia room and the restaurant recreation. The memorabilia room is just that. Tsotchkes and relics of bygone eras, seats, old promo items, menus, mugs, etc. each lovingly labled, but with very little context. Then again, how much context does one need for "Cooks' Paper Hats Throughout the Years?" The founder's notepad designs for the first WH are also housed here, supplying the template for all future Waffle Houses. Well, at least THAT question was answered. But my other questions? Not so much. Then again, the memorabilia room is more homage than it is education; I doubt very much a curator was involved in the collection.
The restaurant recreation, though, is what everyone wanted to see. Yes, it's a complete restoration of the restaurant just as it looked in 1955 which, honestly, looks pretty much the same as they all do now. They thoughtfully supplied plastic food stuffs in all the right places and they encourage you to step behind the counter to play out your short order dreams. You can toast plastic bread, flip fake waffles. You can shoot faux-angry stares at fake drunks slurring orders at the counter.
I admittedly spent more time playing back here than a grown man should.
The experience was cute, but, when someone asked me about it later, I responded, "Well, if you want to see the entire thing, it'll take about 10 minutes. I mean, hell, it's the size of a Waffle House." You can spend more time here if you talk with the welcoming staff (including the nice, yet somewhat condescending marketing guy who assured me "Well, the Waffle House Board is mostly GA Tech engineers, so I'm sure the number of combinations they have published on the menu is correct." Further research on my part has uncovered that they count as toppings THOUSAND ISLAND DRESSING, BLUE CHEESE, Tabasco, and Ranch frakin' dressing among their toppings. Really, Marketing Guy? REALLY?)
In all, I'm glad there's a Waffle House museum, and, if you've got an hour to kill (and it's open) give it a look. But to my friend Matt down in Orlando who wanted to plan a pilgrimage, you might be a little disappointed. Three stars.