IN FRACTIOUS LITTLE Belgium, the Dutch-speaking Flemish and the French-speaking Walloons wholeheartedly agree on few things. They both cherish, however, the garland of pretty beach towns along the country’s brief North Sea coastline. And they both crave the wafels or gaufres (in Flemish and French respectively) served in tearooms and cafes scattered down that shore. An improbable peacemaker, perhaps, but the waffle federates the country nearly as much as Belgium’s famous love of abbey beers and frites (call them french fries there at your peril).

This amplified griddle cake dates back to the Middle Ages, and even made an appearance in Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s 1559 painting “The Fight Between Carnival and Lent.” Art historians say the treat represents flagrant indulgence (carb persecution clearly goes way, way back). It wasn’t until the late 19th century, soon after King Leopold II began his building boom, that the Belgian waffle first migrated to the beach. Among the many kingdom-wide construction projects Leopold undertook at the time—largely financed by the fortune he amassed during his brutal rule of the Congo—was the transformation of the old fishing port of Ostend into a lavish resort town; seaside holidays soon became the rage. Within 50 years, almost every stripe of Belgian society had staked out their preferred patch along the dune-lined coast. The Flemish bourgeoisie preferred De Haan. Le beau monde from Brussels opted for Knokke-Heist. And the weekending shopkeepers and miners from La Wallonie, the French-speaking eastern half of the country, headed to Blankenberge. Café owners fired up their waffle irons to sate the vacationing crowds—and reward them for braving nippy dips in the North Sea’s steel-gray waters.

“ The waffle didn’t migrate to the beach until the late 19th century. ”

Not surprisingly, different regions of Belgium cultivated their own styles of waffles. The most popular in the Flemish areas is the rectangular Brussels waffle with deep indentations—crisped up from a batter raised with yeast. The champ among the French-speakers is the Liège waffle. This heftier specimen is made with fermented dough (to which cinnamon is often added) and kneaded with small nuggets of sugar before being baked in the waffle iron. The caramelized sugar endows it with a distinctive crunchy golden crust. You’ll find both types of waffles along the Belgian coast, but the Brussels style reigns supreme. As for toppings, purists believe the best waffles need only a dusting of confectioner’s sugar. But why adhere to such austere measures when you can also order yours with whipped cream, ice cream, berries, jam, chocolate syrup or apple syrup—among countless other options.

Here’s how to go waffle hunting: From Brussels, a 90-minute train trip delivers you to Knokke-Heist, on the Dutch border. From there, hop on and off the Coast Tramway (delijn.be/en), which runs all along the 41-mile seashore.

Waffles at Siska Photo: Jasmine van Hevel for The Wall Street Journal

The Aristocrat // Marie Siska

Situated in Knokke-Heist, Belgium’s equivalent of the Hamptons, Siska’s swanky tearoom has long been favored by Belgian royals after a game of golf. Loyalists are drawn as much by the food and lovely gardens as the deliciously soapy back story. As legend has it, Siska was founded in 1882 by the thrice-married Fransisca Fincent. Her first husband was a Spanish aristocrat, with whom she had five children. And then she wed in succession two Belgian millers, with whom she had another five children. Called Moeder (mother) Siska by her brood, she ran a country inn and began making waffles with her signature griddle composed of five hearts, which meant that just two batches would provide one cakefor each of her offspring. She also devised the secret recipe for the batter that even today’s proprietor, Stefan Dossche (one of her descendants), won’t divulge. The only clues he offered are that it’s made with the “freshest and best quality Flemish milk and eggs.” Siska’s regulars speculate it may also contain a little beer, sea salt or both. Zoutelaan 177, Knokke-Heist, siska-marie.com

Mikado waffle at T’Koetshuis Photo: Jasmine van Hevel for The Wall Street Journal

The Champion // T’Koetshuis

Once a tiny village of fishermen, Blankenberge is now among the most built up of Belgium’s seaside towns. High-rise apartment buildings tower over a massive stone-lined dike that runs parallel to the wide, flat beach. But the place still has a black-and-white-TV-era charm, evoked by the summer scene of families churning down the street in pedal-carts, people flying kites and beachside shops selling brightly painted metal pails and spades for toddlers. Set back a bit from the shore, nestled between elegant Belle Époque buildings, stands t’Koetshuis (the Carriage House) tearoom. Once a brewery and distillery (founded in 1758), this brick building with lacy wrought-iron railings on the window now griddles what might be the best waffles on the Belgian coast. What makes them so good? It could be the light dusting of confectioner’s sugar or the veil of caramelized sugar, which adds both taste and perfume to their airy, eggy mass. Or it might be the pleasure of dining in the back garden, while listening to the cries of seagulls overhead. If you’re in the mood for a savory before your sweet—or heaven forbid, instead of it—order a plate of deep-fried croquettes filled with tiny sweet North Sea shrimp in béchamel sauce and a garnish of leafy greens. Molenstraat 19, Blankenberge, 32-50-41-47-24

Tearoom Georges Photo: Jasmine van Hevel for The Wall Street Journal

The Bohemian // Tearoom Georges

Ostend may be the grande dame of the Belgian resort towns, but it’s always had an arty, irreverent side too, which is why it’s long inspired and amused folks ranging from the Belgian painter James Ensor to Marvin Gaye (who lived here in the 1980s). The tradition continues with an array of cutting-edge local art events. The creative types, whether visitors or locals, have made endearingly campy Tearoom Georges their canteen. They come for the mezzalunas, focaccia stuffed with cheese, ham and tomato sauce, and finish with one of the 15 types of waffles. Among the favorites: Foret Noire revved up with black cherries, whipped cream and a splash of Calvados. Adolf Buylstraat 15, Ostend, tearoomgeorges.be

Aan zee’s owner with a strawberry waffle Photo: Jasmine van Hevel for The Wall Street Journal

The Charmer // Aan Zee Hotel Tearoom

In the family-oriented beach town of De Panne, Aan Zee is a winsome art-deco-style hotel overlooking the main market street. Inside the hotel’s tearoom, a white and wood- paneled space with an open kitchen, waffle-makers turn out dimpled beauties that come to the table with butter, two different types of sugar and apricot jam. Consider souping up yours with an addictive Speculoos spread (a paste made from Belgian spice cookies) or the egg-nog-like Advocaat, a traditional Dutch liqueur that’s a blend of eggs, sugar and brandy. Reasonable prices add to the pleasure of this cozy place. Markt 6, De Panne, aanzeehotel.be

Fresh fruit waffles and a Mikado waffle at Silversand Photo: Jasmine van Hevel for The Wall Street Journal

The ‘Super Wafel’ // Silversand

Occupying the ground floor of a block of holiday flats off Blankenberge’s busy promenade, Silversand restaurant regularly draws multigenerational crowds, partly because of the great beach views from its outdoor terrace but mostly because of its giant waffles. Bigger may not always be better when it comes to food, but in this case, the supersizing occurs naturally. The kitchen adds live yeast to the batter then allows it to rest all day long. The result: impressively fluffy waffles the size of a hardback book. They’re improbably light, so while you might be tempted to share one, seriously reconsider. If it’s too windy or rainy for the terrace, settle inside the battleship-gray-painted dining room, lined with entertaining black-and-white photos of beachgoers, for a hot tomato soup and grilled panini before a waffle grand finale. Zeedijk 90-91, Blankenberge, silversand.be