My Hungarian grandma made the best apple strudel I've ever had. Here in Hungary it's apple season and apple strudel is showing up on many of the restaurant menus. Yesterday, on the Pest side of the Danube, I came upon the Strudel House. I ordered the sweet cottage cheese-filled strudel, mainly because it was served with a rosehip sauce, which I wanted to taste.
During my two days in the countryside, I saw rose bushes heavy with hips. This restaurant served sauce they had made with freshly harvested rosehips. The sauce had the fragrance of fermented grapes, and I think the little cottage I stayed in that was nestled in the middle of a vineyard in the countryside had bed linens sprayed with the fragrance of rosehips.
Well, the strudel had flakey layers surrounding the cottage cheese filling, the rosehip sauce was a delicious complement and one perfect scoop of creamy vanilla ice cream put the dessert over the top. It was a late-night treat. It wasn't as good as the one my grandma used to make, though.
New Year's eve has got to be the most over-rated holiday of the year. I'm
all about celebrating any holiday, even the ones I have never heard of
but I always dread New Year's eve. Something about being forced to stay
up late, wearing a sparkly, tacky hat and tooting a horn, trying to be
cheerful and chatty when I am actually dog tired from the Christmas
holidays. Otherwise the option is to stay home and feel depressed that
everyone else is out having a good time except for me.