I Made Pie

'Twas the night before Thanksgiving, and I was invited over to Jack and Steve's and Portia's house for dinner. It's always lovely to go over there. I'm very very thankful for friends like that.

It had been a long time since I had made apple strudel and seeing that it was a holiday doo-dah, I went to work.

First, you have to make the dough and then stretch it paper thin across a table. (Jack's Slovenian grandma taught me how to do this about twenty years ago.) It's quite a sight to see such a small amount of dough become so thin you can see your hands through it.

Then, you spread sliced apples across it along with lots of buttery, sugary, cinnamony breadcrumbs. Then, you roll it up, slather it with more butter and sugar, and bake it.

I made two of them. One ended up looking like a pig's hoof, but there you go. Afterward, I still had lots of sliced apples left over along with lots of the buttery breadcrumbs.

Jack's grandma would never have let that go to waste. She would even gather up the pastry trimmings from the strudel dough and fry them in butter and sugar.

So, I whipped up a pie crust and made an apple pie. My pie crust fluting needs work, but there you go. Grandma would have been pleased.