The heady, tangy kick of the BBQ sauce is mellowed by the subtle, earthy tones of the waffle, while the meaty rib rears it head majestically during the early stages of mastication as the meaty juices flow over the tongue.
A well-prepared roffle opens with authority and follows with enthusiasm. The first and subsequent bites should be nigh unhindered, with the teeth sinking smoothly through the spongy waffle and delicate meat.
The waffle is the base of the roffle, and must be prepared accordingly. It must hug the rib like a newlyweds hold each other post-coitus: affectionately, yet passionately. To achieve this, the Eggo must be taken straight from the freezer to the grill. It is imperative that these waffle ARE NOT TOASTED. The harsh furnace of the toaster gives the waffle a rigid, unyielding exterior that is in no way conducive to proper roffling. A flinty waffle would serve no purpose but to terrify the vunerable rib; their coupling should be a loving one, with equal give and take, if perfection in roffle is to be achieved. A loving roffle may be compared to the image of the exodus of Adam and Eve from Paradise: Hand in hand.
The nucleus of the roffle is the rib burger. If you are not familiar with the glory that is the rib burger, I would strongly recommend that you not be a complete fucking dunderheaded retard and slash your parents tires for deciding to home school you. It is, like the waffle, to be prepared on the grill, with BBQ sauce slathered upon their faces much like Edvard Munch's brushstrokes on his magnum opus, "The Scream". Grill the rib at a low heat until its juices flow like gondoliers upon the channels of Venice. It has been cooked through when one can smell it and imagine being banished to Hell for eating it, for Jesus had conveniently scheduled his Second Coming to coincide with the completion of a delicious roffle so he could dibs the first one before someone else took it. Do not poke and prod the rib to see if it has been cooked to completion: If you are meant to be blessed with Roffle Nirvana, you will be. It will be done when it's damn well ready.
The sauce is (literally) the glue that holds the roffle together. It is a heady balancing act on the razors edge between piquant and fiery and rounds out the flavor beautifully, adding character to the tender waffle and rib burger.
When all elements of the roffle have been prepared, one must take a moment to appreciate the beauty before them preceding final assembly. Appreciate the intoxicating aromatic sensation. Behold and scrutinize the colorful array of reds and browns laying in front of you. Weep uncontrollably in anticipation of the pinnacle culinary experience of our times.
The time is now. Prepare yourself. Steele yourself for what is coming. You must now finish what you have started. Imagine the waffle has been split into the quadrants 1, 2, 3 and 4, the upper righthand quadrant being 1 and the others arranged numerically in a clockwise fashion. Lay the rib burger upon the waffle across the quadrants 2 and 4, about 3/4 of and inch from the centerline. Rotate the almost-roffle 1 quarter turn counterclockwise. Gingerly pinch the waffle edge closest to you between the thumb and index finger of your left and right hands and place the middle and ring fingers on the other side of the roffle. Lovingly fold the waffle over and gently pat it to ensure adhesion between the rib and waffle. You may now lift the finished roffle to your mouth. Do not move your head to the roffle. Move your head to the roffle. Deeply inhale it's odors as you take your first glorious bite. Masticate with relish. If roffling with men, make your best effort to suppress or at least conceal the inevitable erection you will experience. Erection concealment is not as important when roffling with women.
If at first you do not succeed, try again. Roffling is two parts art, one part science. It is a process that requires practice and finesse. Also, try not to be retarded or stupid, as this is not a state of mind fit for roffling. Bon appetit.