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My mother and pop started married life in a small floor ground condo in a two-family home in Brooklyn. In the future grandma determined it was her daughters flip to study the household recipe and provided a hands-on strudel-baking lesson. My mom watched because the dough was labored till paper skinny. The filling wasn't tough, however the dough required a sure experience.
The essential half was within the preliminary preparation; the dough wanted to be pounded and stretched. As they had been slapping it towards the kitchen desk to work it the women labored up a sweat. They continued to bang it round till they had been virtually executed. They had been ready for the dough to achieve its elasticity when rapidly there was a loud knock on the door. My mother wiped the moisture from her face and opened the door to seek out the landlady, who lived upstairs, wanting impatient and pissed off. Together with her fingers on her hips, she expressed marvel at how her tenants might probably be chilly -still. She had turned the warmth up a number of instances. My mother was puzzled. What she did not know was the usual rule of two-family residing: In the event you want extra warmth, rap laborious on the pipes. My mom and grandmother nonetheless snort about that until this present day.
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