Few things make me feel more capable as a human being than making a nice batch of pancakes. There’s something about mixing the pancake batter and experimenting with possible flavor combinations that really feeds my god complex (no pun intended). 

When I inevitably disregard the advice of the online recipe I’m following because “I can probably figure it out from here,” I feel like I’m Gordon Ramsey, and I’ve come to save a struggling restaurant by showing them how to make the perfect pancake.

There’s truly nothing like it.

Realistically, I’m probably freshly woken up on a Sunday at noon, stressing about having to do all of that homework I’ve been putting off. I’ve probably been humbled by a recent Infinite Campus notification on my Honors Biology test from last Friday. But once I make myself a batch of pancakes, I feel a sense of accomplishment as I think to myself: “Damn — I’m kind of awesome.” But maybe this is just a me thing.

All jokes aside, I truly think making pancakes (and, of course, eating them too) is superior to making (and, of course, eating) waffles for two simple, yet crucial reasons: creative freedom, and the absence of structure.

There are so many things we can do to make pancakes. For those of you who haven’t already, I urge you to do a deep dive into the world of pancake art. Ranging from drawings of flowers to ironic depictions of other food to full drawn portraits, the sky’s the limit when it comes to pancake art. Whereas with waffles? Confined to the boring, geometric design generated by waffle makers. In a battle of creativity, it’s clear that pancakes reign victorious.

Our lives are defined by structure, schedules and timetables that dictate how we spend our day to day. Especially as students, our livelihoods are contaminated with the frivolous necessity of scheduling time with academics, extracurriculars and even our free time. 

But in the land of pancakes, the concept of structure suddenly disappears in the form of fluffy, heavenly dough. Without those suppressive boxes which are characteristic of waffles, we have the freedom to run wild. 

No longer are we boxed in (pun intended) and forced to abide by preset designs. Finally we can experience what true happiness feels like when we arbitrarily flood our plate with syrup – pouring a little here, pouring a lot here, missing some spots entirely. Is this what heaven feels like?

Dear readers, I leave you with this. In a world where our creative freedom is stifled and our daily lives are polluted with the arbitrary need for structure and order, will you still really be reaching for waffles on those Sundays?