A co-worker just popped into my office to tell me about her breakfast this morning: A Liege waffle from Sweet Iron downtown. Place opened on Third and Seneca last year.

Actually she didn’t even open her mouth: Her glazed, beatific expression did the talking.

Once she regained her composure she mumbled something about the goat cheese and pistachio waffle…its sinking toothsomeness, like a good Danish…its gentle sweetness, almost like brioche…its sugar-crisped edges…its many sibling varieties, from strawberries and whipped cream to caramel-drizzled bruleed banana.

Not caramel-drizzled bruleed banana, I sighed. Mercy.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a Belgian waffle; an even longer while since I’ve been to the actual place called Liege, in Belgium, land of Charlemagne and, well…Belgian waffles.

Won’t take quite as long to get to Third and Seneca, however. Care to join?