Just Call Me “Strudel Woman”!
There’s no doubt about it: for someone who loves strudels, having just one at a time proves very, very difficult. Every strudel lover I have met will not stop at one piece because, quite simply, strudels are one of the most delicious sweets to ever be invented. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just as irresistible to me as cheese used to be! When you say “a cup of coffee with a warm strudel”, to me, you’re may as well say that I have won the lottery: the simple pleasure of the dough melting in my mouth with the sweet flavor of cooked apples—their sweetness and tartness— is what keeps driving me back to them… and the memories of times spent with my family enjoying grandma’s latest creation and a little espresso with it.
The raisins, when included, can really give it that extra sweetness that causes a momentary rush to an already ecstatic brain. Grandma had her own set of recipes and we never could have complained about any of her experiments: she was always an incredible cook. They were not vegan—something that didn’t matter to me at the time— but, now, I’ll be sure to turn them all into vegan recipes. Now, when that sweet smell fills the air, I find myself struggling with those memories: they rush back and a great feeling of nostalgia pervades my entire soul.
This love for strudels made me go insane one evening when I was truly hungry and tired from a long day at work. I went shopping for food and, since I’d been so good in my eating habits for numerous months, I decided I could allow myself some strudels, as long as they were vegan.
I bought six strudels.
That night I went home and I started munching on one while dinner was cooking. After dinner I thought I deserved another one. Then, again, around midnight, there I was, gobbling down my third strudel as if there was not going to be one— or three— tomorrow waiting for me in the pretty box.
And here started spiralling into my vortex of strudel: In the morning, I had one for breakfast; I took the remaining two with me to work; and, on my way home, I picked up more strudel.
“Wow,” said my roommate when I came home, “you are really into the apple strudels these days.”
And then, my precious strudels betrayed me: in the two weeks to follow I noticed my skin was not so happy and had a little reaction on my face. Then I felt oddly cold, cranky, and truly sad. It occurred to me, having experience with my bodies reaction to non-vegan foods, that maybe I should stop eating strudels. When I checked the ingredients again I found the non-vegan truth: my strudels contained palm oil which, unless otherwise stated, is not vegan.
I am sure that the sugar did most of the damage to my body, but the palm oil was especially problematic for me since, in order to grow and cultivate it, we destroy orangutans habitats often hurt the animals themselves: from now on, I’ll settle my conscience and my body, by making my own strudel: at least I can put less sugar and use the actually natural raw one, much healthier and tastier too.
While I still drool when going by the aisle in the store I now stop myself because I don’t want to feel sick the way I did in the following weeks. More than that: I love baking. It’s time to go back to it. Just call me Strudel Woman!