You'd be lying to say that Wired Waffles do not grab your attention; it's a flippin' caffeinated waffle for Heaven's sake! And while this hopefully inspires more uniqueness in the energy product market, let us momentarily suspend our curiosity and critique its physical appearance. It certainly does look like what it is supposed to, with deep bores to capture butter and syrup, and the imperfectness of the shape gives it a welcome homey feel that is sure to return memories of eating the such as a kid.
Frozen and then reheated, the first bite to Wired Waffles is an domestic struggle between the crunchy coating and the interior vaporous batter. But this shell, which is crystallized sugar that develops a distinguished brittle firmness, is a wonderful complement to the internal fluffiness. The flavour has a surprising sweetness that isn't superficial, as the sugariness is tasted in both the outward case and the within pillows of cooked dough. Maple syrup was generously applied to half of the Liège-style waffle, of course pure grade B, and the tree nectar is eventually nearly absorbed, and though the breakfast staple loses some of its aforementioned crispness, the often imitated sacchariferous topping imbues a rich depth into the already saccharine treat. Overall, Wired Waffles taste far better than either the usual frozen waffle or one made with a box mix.
To my knowledge the only energy ingredient is 200 milligrams of caffeine, but hey, how could one complain about that? The kick caused some jitters and lasted a solid four hours, which is the typical length of the amount contained. Overall, in the strict sense of a waffle, Wired Waffles are not exactly anything special, but it's as an energy product where the creativity and consistent quality shine.