Every Saturday afternoon Mr. Ladamacher and another German gentleman come to play cards with Grandpapa. Every Saturday morning Grandmama makes strudel. Every week the German gentlemen act surprised, as if they had never seen strudel before. “Himmel!” they say. That means, “heaven.” “Gussie made strudel for us! So much work just for us!” Grandmama always replies, “Ach, there’s nothing to it.” But there is a lot to the making of strudel. I love to watch how it’s done. First Grandmama scoops out a big pile of flour and makes a hole in the center of it. Eggs and water and butter go into the hole. Using her hands, Grandmama squishes the mess together. Then it’s pounded and kneaded. That’s just the beginning. The dough sits for a while, “rests,” Grandmama calls it, as if the dough were snoozing. She spreads a clean cloth over the kitchen table and sprinkles flour over it. Next she rolls out the dough and begins to pull it with the backs of her hands. Little by little, the lump of dough stretches and grows.
What do You think about That Wild Berries Should Grow?
