For the past few years, I’ve been intrigued by the nebulous connection between the GLBT community and The Waffle Spot, along with its budget-class crash pad, the Kings Inn at Hotel Circle. Both places have periodically advertised in gay media, and they show up in Web sites such as gayres.com and gay-sandiegohotels.com. Better known are the eatery’s waffles made with malted flour – long touted as San Diego’s best.

Traverse the motel’s dank lobby, which smells oddly like wet poodles, and The Waffle Spot is a sunny offshoot featuring plastic flora, a classic lunch counter and “modern ’80s” fabrics on the booths and stool backs. An amateur mural of a medieval kingdom resembling Teletubby land stretches across one wall.

In two recent visits, gay folk were either undetectable or completely absent. I learned afterward that various GLBT organizations have held meetings and mixers in the Inn’s banquet room in past years and that the venue’s managers remain gay-friendly, which is great for GLBT travelers rolling into town on a budget. But given the property’s fiercely outdated ambience and waffles that arrived tardy and cold when I ate there, I’ll personally be sticking to other griddle joints for my morning start.

The kitchen gets its waffle and pancake mix from Carbon’s in Michigan, which developed the recipe for malted flour back in 1937. Hotels and theme parks all over the country use it because the malt gives rise to waffles and pancakes, and the addition of cornmeal into the formula adds heartiness; appreciable qualities, if only the waffles on three of our plates exhibited a puff of warm steam. The soft whipped butter we applied never stood a chance of melting into the waffles’ deep square cavities.

Fruit waffles such as Apple-Cinnamon incorporate the apples into the batter and come with a wedge of the fruit pushed into a cloud of whipped cream on the side. Choose raspberry and you’ll get pre-frozen berries plopped into a bowl along with their drinkable natural juices. All other selections such as peach, strawberry and cherry arrive in the form of syrupy compotes.

Tasty was the Corned Beef Hash (canned, not homemade) with two fried eggs cooked medium as requested. But for $8.25, the hash portion was scant. Another in our small group opted for a three-egg omelet that normally comes overloaded with Swiss, jack and cheddar cheeses. She downsized it to cheddar only and the omelet was pleasantly manageable, with the exception of overcooked edges.

The overall breakfast experience yielded nothing special: the sausage links were the usual cheap diner quality, the bacon was pre-fried tasting and the funny-colored orange juice undoubtedly originated from an industrial gallon jug. We all winced when sipping it.

Lunch, however, gave way to a satisfying, char-grilled burger that successfully captured the flavor of fresh ground beef. I dressed it up with a few rings of potent raw onions, but pushed aside the plastic cup of mayo because of a yellowish film forming over the top. The accompanying scoop of potato salad was OK, although a little over chilled and in need of dill or mustard in its making.

The service we received at breakfast was hands-off without being blatantly rude – that is, unless you take personally having to wait nearly 15 minutes playing in your ice water before a waitperson comes to take your order. (Two customers in an adjoining booth took a more proactive approach by walking over to the wait station to ask for a server.)

However, the efficiency level rose a notch in my lunch visit, although only three other tables were occupied. The food came out faster and my waitress, an older woman with a Midwest hairdo, kept referring to me as “young man.” I haven’t heard that since I turned 30 a number of years ago.

Among the slightly less conventional menu items are the Tangy Spanish Waffle shaped into a boat and topped with chilies and scrambled eggs, the Huevos al Zarape that include strips of steak with eggs and cheese, and a few egg-based “breakfast caserolas” made with meat or vegetables.

The Waffle Spot might best serve as an alternative place for ham and eggs for those who hate the long lines and hubbub associated with trendy breakfast haunts in other areas of town. But for me, I’d rather skip over it and plug in the waffle iron at home.