I had the good fortune to have been brought up by two European grandmothers - one Swedish, and one Hungarian. Both could cook and bake magnificently. My mother was a professional woman, and worked during the day - so I had the benefit of spending all non-school hours with the Swedish grandmother, who lived with us; and visiting the Hungarian gandmother on the weekends. Two particular memories come to me at this moment. 1) My Swedish grandmother saying to me - you're old enough to walk, you're old enough to bake! And with that, she put a piece of bread dough in my hands and taught me what to do with it. Talk about hands-on learning experiences! 2) My Hungarian grandmother had a rickety card table. Almost every weekend she would put it up, cover it with a well-worn clean bedsheet, flour it, put a piece of dough in the middle, and with magic hands pulled the dough until it covered the table. Tthen she sliced apples directly on it; added sugar and spices; rolled it up, cut it, and put it into baking pans. You can understand why I never eat commerical apple strudel! The funny side to all of this is that when both these kitchen magicians passed on, and my mother had to run her own household, she was stuck with a smug teenager who could cook and bake her under the table! We had some "interesting" moments. We worked out a system. She caught up fast, and became a really good cook. As many of today's young women, at least in this busy Washington, DC metropolitan area, have not had the benefit of grandmothers like these, I have made it a point to take a few under my wing and teach them as if they were my granddaughters.

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