Roscoe’s Frozen Sweet Potato Waffles Are a Surprisingly Sound Investment

The bad news is—there’s no frozen chicken

Lawry’s has its seasoned salt, Wolfgang Puck’s face is on a bunch of soup cans, and Komodo created a vaguely Asian, unequivocally delicious flavor of Hot Pockets. So it’s only right that Snoop Dogg’s number one munchie spot, Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles joins those other timeless L.A. icons on grocery store shelves.

The Roscoe’s At Home (it sounds so quaint!) line dropped in late 2013 with microwaveable sides like mac and cheese and collard greens, and it took more than a year for their frozen waffles to follow suit. But, more importantly, they didn’t come to the freezer aisle end-cap at my neighborhood Ralph’s until sometime last week. Which is how we ended up here.


Pop these frozen pastry discs into the office toaster and coworkers you never knew existed (oh hey, nice to finally meet you, Karen) prairie dog up from behind their cubicles to see what the intoxicating aroma is. The ingredients list doesn’t have an answer, obscured by vague terms like “spices” and “artificial flavors,” but my best guess is cinnamon, nutmeg, and fake butter flavoring. It’s pleasantly haunting.

The waffles have dehydrated sweet potato flakes mixed in, and you can almost taste them if you close your eyes really tightly and think about a time in the past you ate a sweet potato. (Even though it would have been off brand, they really should just be called pumpkin spice waffles.)

Roscoe’s waffles are more bread-like than your average Eggo, which almost have a texture similar to pate-a-choux, but what they lack in chewiness they more than make up for in spice and ability to soak up syrup. Seriously, they’re like sham wows—it’s great.

If you’re in the market for a breakfast that you can cook in a toaster and doesn’t rhyme with “Mop Darts,” you could do much worse than a $3 box of Roscoe’s waffles. And plus, this is what everyone means when they say “eat local.”