The kitchen was already warm when I started—sunlight on the counter, that kind of hush that happens when you wake up before your thoughts do. I hadn’t planned to make waffles. I hadn’t planned anything, really.
But the milk was still good, the eggs hadn’t cracked in the carton, and there was just enough butter left to mean something.
Martha’s recipe was scribbled on the back of a grocery list I almost threw out. “Easy Waffles.” That’s all I needed. Something easy. Something crisp. Something that didn’t fall apart the second I touched it.
What the Original Looked Like
Her Highness keeps it stripped down here—no buttermilk, no whipped egg whites, no pretense. Just flour, sugar, powder, salt. Milk, eggs, melted butter. A hot iron and a few minutes. That’s it.
They’re not the kind of waffles that brag. They don’t puff like a show pony. They crisp around the edges, brown deeply, and take syrup like they’ve earned it.
Martha says serve with more butter. I listened.
What I Did Differently (Because Life)
I used whole milk even though it says “milk.” I don’t keep anything else around.
My butter was salted. I didn’t care. I liked it better.
I didn’t level the flour, and I let the batter sit longer than she said because the dog needed walking halfway through. Didn’t ruin a thing.
Also—my waffle iron is old, and one corner always burns. I rotated the batter. Still burned. Still good.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
I whisked the flour and sugar in the green Pyrex bowl that’s been with me since college. It’s stained with turmeric on one side. I didn’t scrub it. Just kept going.
Mae wandered in barefoot, grabbed a fork before I’d even finished the first batch. Took one bite and said, “Oh. Okay.” That’s her highest form of praise.
We ate two standing up, shared the last one off a paper towel because I forgot plates.
Didn’t feel wrong.
What I Learned (Again)
Easy doesn’t mean lesser.
Some days, it means grace.
What Happened After
Mae left the fork in the sink. I didn’t move it.
I sat with the last half of a waffle and let myself feel full—just for a minute.
Would I Make It Again?
Yes. On the days I need a win before 9 a.m.
That’s What I Remember
Steam. Butter. The kind of quiet that feels earned.
Why I’ll Make Martha’s Waffles Every Time I Wake Up Unsure
Why I Used Salted Butter
It was already soft on the counter. And honestly, I liked the way it cut through the sweet.
Martha would probably frown. That’s fine. I’m not making them for her.
FAQs
yeah, but they soften a bit. pop ’em in the toaster and they come back to life just fine. better than most frozen ones.
nope. mine’s old, squeaky, and burns the corner. still makes waffles. use what you’ve got.
you can, but why would you? that’s the good part. if you need to, sub in a mild oil—but they’ll taste a little flatter.
add a splash of milk. the batter should pour, not plop. trust your eye more than the recipe.
yep. i’ve done it. cook ’em low and slow. won’t be quite the same, but they’ll still make your morning quieter.
Check out More Recipes:
- Martha Stewart One Pot Pasta
- Martha Stewart Scalloped Potatoes
- Martha Stewart Buttermilk Waffles
- Martha Stewart Banana Bread Loaf
Martha Stewart Easy Waffle Recipe
Description
Fast. Crisp. And a little saltier than expected—like most good mornings.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Preheat your waffle iron: Let it heat while you whisk. My light doesn’t work anymore, so I just guess.
- Mix the dry ingredients: Flour, sugar, baking powder, salt—whisk until it looks like soft dust.
- Add wet to dry: In another bowl, whisk milk and eggs. Pour into the dry stuff and stir. Don’t chase every lump. Some things are fine left unfinished.
- Stir in melted butter: It’ll smell like breakfast already. Let it.
- Cook the waffles: Scoop about ½ cup batter into the iron. Spread gently. Cook until they’re golden brown and crisp at the edges. Mine always overcook on one side. I’ve made peace with it.
- Serve immediately: Butter, syrup, a fork you don’t plan to wash yet. Eat them warm. Don’t rush.