"I refuse to write about the returning Sunday. When I am old and decrepit, I want to read this and think I am still there..."

See the World. Save the World.

March 25, 2010

Acknowledgements
For my wonderful parents who encourage me to travel and eat every second that I am able to, despite all of the enormous costs.

Thanks to the Catawba College Honors Program for insisting that travel be a part of our education process. Especially Debra and Dyke Messinger, who provided the grant money to let us learn about truly great food-making processes like Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, Ham, and Balsamic Vinegar. I never knew about the power of time until this trip.

And for Delores Imblum and Mark and Jan Sabo, whose ability to go above and beyond is truly worth thanking, whether they want us to or not. Their energy and enthusiasm kept me excited and engaged and never wanting to leave.

Dear Old Lady Carrie,
Many years ago, you traveled to Italy. Here are your memories as preserved by me.

Love,
21-year-old Carrie

Saturday/Sunday
You start on a plane. It is a simple process. You have done it before and you will most likely do it again. There is, of course, the tiniest problem of your epic fear of flying. It only gets in the way a little. You have the happy knack of being able to bulldoze any fear with enough humor and sass. No one knows how much you want to be dry heaving or in a nice warm bed or really anywhere but on a plane. In the air. For nine hours. High in the air. With nowhere near enough water.

 With all that said, it can't possibly be as bad as you expect. The last long flight was terrible, but this one could not possibly be as rough. There are benefits that far outweigh the fears. There is the eternal excitement of a new place. A new world you have never explored. Lands conquered by ancient people that you have yet to discover. They all wait for you after a long arduous plane ride. It might just be worth it. And so, the plane ride begins. You watch fairly enjoyable movies, drink gallons of water, and even manage to get some sleep. During the last few hours, you watch the Lufthansa plane fly across foreign lands you once called home. You count over ten cities on the lovely blue screen that you have visited. Great weekends of your life were spent exploring these places.

 That map and a very smooth landing led to a lot of joy in a long layover Germany. the sound of languages you do not understand intoxicates you. You are ready now. You catch a nap on the way to Milan and suddenly you are in the zone. Wait for baggage. Check. Meet Claudio and Giorgio. Double Check. Fall madly love, board a bus, and feel completely and total jet lag set in. Check, Check, Big Ole Check. We stop briefly at a truck stop service station situation because mealtime was definitely in order. This is the moment. Take note. Almost instantly after setting foot in this terrifying location do you realize that you know approximately zero words in the Italian language. You go to a counter. You point. You pray you eat something edible. Luckily, you speak the language of dessert fluently. You pick up some strawberry like object and enjoy. After a series of delicious food products entering your belly, you and an army of other tire twenty somethings begin our journey to Parma.

 "Svelia, Svelia" Those were the sounds you next hear when you wake up on the bus. Giorgio, the beautiful Italian tour director who may or may not change your life will say those words constantly as you arrive at any destination. This particular destination is mostly hazy due to your continued jet lag. Room assignments occur and then a brief nap before you journey to your first sit down dinner. After strategically placing yourself across from Giorgio, you receive you first course. Ham. Now you may not be aware of this, but you are deathly afraid of pork products. I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not your fear stems out of an excessive love of Charlotte's Web or if you just spent too much time studying Judaism in school. Regardless, you go for your first bite. Surprisingly delicious, but still an odd adjustment. Parmesan Cheese (you will call it the correct name tomorrow!) is probably one of the most delicious things you have ever eaten. In the history. Of. The. World. There were a variety of delicious pasta dishes and apple tarts that followed. But you are probably still thinking about that cheese.

Monday
Luckily, the next morning you first stop would be to a Parmigiano Reggiano factory. All the delicious cheese you inhaled the night before would be at your disposal in a step-by-step process that proves why it is so delicious. You meet Melanie who will be your guide for the morning. She forces you to place large plastic sheets over your head, body and shoes. Note to self: Keep this in mind for your Halloween costume next year. You enter the factory and are explained step by step the process of making what may be the best cheese in the world. You see how milk must be skimmed in the early morning. Then after placing this milk into copper vats where whey and rennet is added. Once the milk curdles, the large solids are lifted to the top of the vat with cheese clothes. The chunks are cut into two and you begin to see the early signs of the great cheese wheel that you will want to consume every time you see it. The wheels are placed in wooden frames and then switched into steel rounds and as Melanie put it, cheese works like women's jeans; their butts slowly sag into them. You move into the next day's process: the brine bath. For about three weeks, the cheese rounds sit in a mixture of water and Italian salt. The salt must be approved in order to maintain its protected status. After the brine bath, the cheese takes its place among the stacks. hundreds upon hundreds of cheese rounds fill shelves all over the factory. After a year, each round must be carefully inspected by someone who is trained to hear any defects in the cheese. Any cheese that fails inspection cannot be called Parmigiano Reggiano and can be sold at 18 months. If a cheese passes its inspection, it remains on the stacks until in reaches 36 months. Melanie tells you the story of the old cheese master who was responsible for making this cheese and his wife who was responsible for flipping the fifty-pound cheese weekly when it would sweat too much. Melanie describes her as being a square woman with very long arms. Without thinking, Giorgio mutters, "not very much sexy." This description and comment leads to the creation of a fabulous Cheese Master's Wife Dance. You will do this consistently throughout the trip. You then are carefully guided to the gift shop where you can purchase massive amounts of this cheese. Warning: You can never purchase too much. You should take whole wheels back with you. Clothes are not worth it.

 You re-board the bus and make your way to observe the Parma Ham factory. Pig product is still a little terrifying at this point in the journey so the facts seem to whiz by you while you are just trying to survive in a room full of dead Wilburs. Through your whimpering, you hear Melanie emphasize the importance of time. Ham waits for a long time while it is salted and inspected to ensure perfection. Each ham is tagged so you know exactly whether you are eating Wilbur or Billy or even Sally Jane. Well, the names would probably be Italian. You are taken upstairs. You eat ham, bacon, and what you will grow to love despite your guilt, neck. Capicola is probably the most delicious meat product you have ever eaten. It will become addictive. You probably eat it once a day for the rest of this trip. Sorry Wilbur. Charlotte made sure you survived at least. After inhaling more meat and cheese and bread you make your way towards a lunch of, you guessed it, more meat and cheese and bread.

 Melanie takes you to a wine tasting and then leaves you. You have been in a food coma since last night, but the class is called Eating in the Arts and Sciences so you do what you are told. You eat. Constantly. After eating and drinking you are taken down to where the wine is fermented. Again, you here the word time. Their fermentation takes time, not as much as some wines, but still the emphasis is on locality. Region matters. There is no rush to get a lesser product. Everything is about staying nice and slow. You will get your food if you are patient. And the more patient you are, the more food you will receive. Trust me; you will probably eat way too much. After watching the first real machines you have seen over the course of this trip bottling and carbonating the wine, you begin you realize how much you can do without.
 We live in a world that depends so much on industrialization and how much to we really need? Why are we in such a rush? Isn't better quality worth the wait?

 These are the thoughts that are continually entering your head as you re-board the bus for your last stop of the day. In Modena, you arrive at a Balsamic Vinaigrette factory. Of course, no one would really call it a factory. A very simple organization made by moving grape juice into smaller and smaller barrels. The earliest balsamic vinegar can be sold is after it has aged for 12 years. The return on products takes an incredibly long time. the man showing us around had barrels with vinegar over 60 years old. The only ingredient is grape. This is by far the simplest product that you have seen so far. It is a little unbelievable that something that tastes so complex can really be as simple as the cultivation of one ingredient. After watching the elaborate detailed work that goes into making balsamic vinegar, you end the tour the same way as all the others, with a tasting. You try what you had always known was balsamic vinegar. It is, of course, disgusting. You try the real stuff and it is delicious. None of this is shocking. What is shocking is the next thing you try. Balsamic vinegar atop ice cream. A little intimidating? Yes. But it is still dessert, so there is no way you can turn it down.

 Obviously, the next sentence will have something to do with boarding the bus. The bus is becoming more and more of your home. You begin to listen to more of Giorgio's stories and take the little moments of immersion that you can find. You begin to learn the words to the songs that Claudio plays and sings on the bus. You rarely sleep when there are such beautiful sights to look at out the window. You find yourself getting addicted to travel all over again. Your mind drifts to the concept of time that you learned about all day. Some things are worth waiting for. One day you can eat the way you want and live the way you want, but these things, like food, take time. You think about how wonderful your next trip will be. Where you will go and who you will meet. This trip is only beginning but you already learned so much about how you want to live your life. Patience is important.

 Giorgio rudely interrupts your profound discovers to utter a "Wakey, Wakey!" and tell the gang that you have arrived in Florence. You get out at the Hotel where you will spend the next three nights. The idea of settling sounds lovely. Florence will be the city you get to explore. You will know your way around and definitely plan to go back by the time it is through. But for your first night, you mostly just explore. A few of your friends go eat a nice pasta, meat and carbohydrate heavy meal and you just can't get over how beautiful everything is. In order to hide our childlike excitement, you spend most of your evening quiet. You don't really take the lead. You mostly look at everything around you and just hope that this trip will slow down long enough that you can see some really beautiful things. You stop for some gelato and then make your way back to your room. Sleep is a necessity. Tomorrow will be oh so busy and just so so cold.

Tuesday
Someone up in the sky was looking out for you on that brisk Tuesday morning. You somehow decided the perfect outfit was you large warm sweater and some leggings under your jeans. Your gut knew that today would be frigid. You walk into the heart of Florence with the group and get a cappuccino. You put a large plastic ear bud in your ear just in time to hear your daily tour guide tell you all about the beautiful city of Florence. This ear bud is a Whisper, a device you will make fun of for the next five days, but will provide you with endless historical and cultural information that you need in order to appreciate how beautiful everything is. You walk in the Duomo. You forgot how beautiful those old churches are. You step inside and the breath literally leaves you. Stonework surround you and great art reaches up to the heavens through the ceilings of this incredible place. You see the work of Michelangelo. It is stunning and shocking and mostly unbelievable. A chill hits you and you remember the poor insulation that comes from these amazing buildings. You make your way down to Ponte Vecchio. The cold is debilitating. You occasionally remove your hands from your pockets if only to take photos of the beautiful world around you. By the time you reach the Uffizi, you no longer hear any of the sounds in the Whisper. You are guided to a leather shop where you are lead indoors. Your ears instantly begin to warm and work again. A young man named Patrick teaches you some tricks to no when you are dealing with leather or pleather. Instantly you feel savvy and now want to prove to all the cons on the street that you know what you are talking about. You examine all the leather products but don't make any purchases.

 Within a minute after leaving, you realize that gloves would have been a great investment.  Dr. Sabo and Giorgio lead you to a fresh food market where you are given your free time. You immediately go on your glove hunt and successfully haggle what you are almost sure are leather gloves. Claire Robinson may never believe you. You make your way towards pizza as you stomach is growing at a rabid rate. You eat delicious food and begin to pick up enough Italian so you don't seem entirely rude. You and a gaggle of about seven pay and go towards the Uffizi. You get in a lovely long line and wait. You push through crowds and take the time to look around at all the cold faces. Perhaps the weather cannot be beautiful so that you will eventually want to leave. Going to Museums and seeing stunning old cities is a little bit addictive. Once you get started, you really can't stop. The weather is the only reason why you haven't run away and moved on to the steps of the Duomo.

 Eventually you make your way inside and see some of the most beautiful iconic religious art you have ever seen. It is not your favorite genre, but it is great work without question. You make it through about half the museum before you hit your art coma limit. You observe the rest, but your legs have started to ache and your ever-expanding stomach is calling for the slow food dinner that you know you will be eating in a few hours. The army goes trudging back towards the hotel where you get about a half hour to lay down before you march on for dinner. Exhaustion and no journaling are all that takes place.

 You journey downstairs and walk right next to Giorgio the whole way to dinner. This cements your friendship. You two are so close to dating. It is a shame he is engaged. He gets lost several times on the way to the restaurant. You threaten him with the evaluation you received the day before. it is now your responsibility to document his behavior. You frequently threaten him, but between your crush and his amazing tour-directing ability there is no way he can fail. Eventually he directs you and your classmates to the restaurant. You make you way upstairs. You position yourself in between Dr. Sabo and Ryan and across from Jan Sabo, who you just discovered is celebrating her birthday! This night is gearing up to be nothing short of incredible.

 You start with the usually meat, cheese and bread. Then you get a series of pastas, the most delicious of which is in a wild boar sauce. Yup. You try it. Then come out more meats. You try rabbit which is a fairly big step consider you have been afraid of them since you were seven. You are weird; sorry if you are just learning that now. Finally, the deserts come out. You and Jan become best friends because of your ability to eat anything sweet. At some point Giorgio puts chocolate all over your nose. It isn't as bad as the chocolate you put all over your face by accident. At least his was intentional. This meal will probably be one of your favorite moments on the trip. It is perfect and fun and you may never get another meal that delicious or another memory that happy. Walking home that night, you realize that nothing can compare to great food and a beautiful skyline. Florence has both.

Wednesday
As you were warned the night before. your morning starts off with a twisty and turny bus ride through Tuscany. You meet your driver for the day. his name is Steve. he cannot compare to Claudio, but he is incredibly sweet. He shows us the process to make olive oil and Chianti. Again, you see machines. Anything silver and shiny is so rare that Steve quickly explains how recently they switched to this industrial process. He assures that it only provides ease and does not deter from the quality. You trust Steve. He seems like a good guy. You travel a little ways to a wonderful space heater where you eat bread and olive oil and have a formal wine tasting. Learning the differences between wines is fascinating. You can barely describe it but you start to know what you enjoy and what you don't which makes you a little closer to a grown up.

You leave your wine tasting and travel to Christiana's house, where you learn to make ravioli. Steve teaches you everything. He knows great techniques and shows you exactly how to ensure that your pasta will be incredible. He makes you feel like a pro quick and soon you are ready to eat. You very carefully design your ravioli in hopes that you will wind up with one of your own after Christiana cooks them. You wind up upstairs after your lesson and sit down to more food. Christian provides you with pizza, tomatoes, and a zucchini frittata that easily the best thing you have ever eaten. You will legitimately have dreams about that piece of food for weeks following your return to the united states. You then receive the pasta you just made. After careful examination, you see that you did receive one of your own, so it is basically a dream come true. You then move on to the linguini, which you can barely taste because you have eaten so much. This is the meal where you begin to wonder what is the likelihood of you stomach exploding. You are convinced that there is no more food to be put inside you when out comes the tiramisu. Your stomach expands a little further and you say good-bye to the dream of bathing suit season. Somehow, it all seems worth it. You re-board your minibus and let the food coma fully take over.

In your sleep, you think about how wonderful it will be when you can make all your own food. You desperately want to control what you eat and if you cook for yourself, you can do so much better than what you eat daily at home. The idea of making your own pasta also makes you seem much more hip and chic than you actually are. Ah well, you take what you can get. Now maybe you can make a good first impression. On your walk back, you decide to divide up and make your way towards the Duomo. You did not get to climb it yesterday and you were told it would still be open. Lies. It was not. Instead, you do some necessary shopping for family and then take an unintentional nap. You are awoken by your friends to pick up some gelato and spend a lovely evening in the hotel. You know the next morning you must leave Florence and you have grown to feel save and at home here. At least there is still more to explore.

Thursday
Just two days ago, your gut could perfectly guess the whether. Today is not like that. You are fairly well dressed, but the idea of going south means that you choose flats over boots. Wrong choice. So very very wrong. The first part of the morning on the bus is really fine. You sleep a little more. Look out the window. Plan your future when you move here. And then, you arrive in Sienna. What would probably be the most perfect city you have ever scene if it weren't for one teeny tiny problem. It is snowing. Hard. It hits the ground and turns to cold water that seeps in your toes. You struggle through yet another Whisper tour. You take so few pictures because you are so cold. The memories of Sienna are forever locked in your mind. There is no way to describe the beautiful browns and oranges that transcend what a city should look like. The large open square is stunning, vast and nothing short of heavenly. Your guide tells you the story of Il Palio. It is a race held in the square of Sienna every year. She tells you stories of gambling, gangs and sports. How can Sienna not be your future home? They also make a lot of cake. There really is no choice. Because of the foul weather, you make your way inside for a panini. The food is delicious as always and you begin to dry off. You even manage to have a few minutes to look around before you head back you the bus. Saying goodbye to Sienna is really not that difficult because you will be back. Il Palio calls. Along with better shoes.

Thanks to Jan's request, you stop in San Gimignano. A walled city filled with beautiful art, museums and shopping. You, Danielle, and Claire opt to take a break from the masses. You wander up the Tower Museum and become engulfed in the religious artwork you see. You begin to make up stories about the saints as you try and understand all the Italian you are seeing. You make your way up the tower, all the time consoling ladies who are afraid of heights. You forgot how good you are at that job. It brings back floods of Eiffel towers and Cambridge and Lincoln. You look out at a snowy San Gimignano and melt. Literally, you no longer feel the cold. You only see beauty. You wouldn't trade that view for anything. The three of you go wandering. Find a park and look around this beautiful city. You need a few minutes structure free and seeing the neighborhoods where people actually live is nothing short of amazing. You make your way back down to the grocery store so you can pick up dinner for the even in the hotel. The three of you go into together and even during your free time make the standard choice of bread meat and cheese.

You board the bus and take everything back to the hotel. After a few wrong turns, you wind up in the beautiful Italian version of Jane Austen land. You navigate your way to the room with all the food and begin to chow down. Dr. Sabo offers you to jump in the pool in exchange for 10 euro. Not worth it. The daredevil in you is a little greedier than that. You share a lovely evening with the friends you've made. You love the new close bonds with people you barely knew. Everyone should get to see the world. It makes you nicer. You sleep peacefully that night as you begin to prepare for chocolate and Rome.

Friday
You wake up that morning ready for Chocolate. You barely eat breakfast because you know you are about to cure your sweet tooth. You say your usual good morning to Claudio and Giorgio and then you get on the road. You are guided into the factory with both free samples and a movie. Clearly, they are prepared for Americans. We tour the factory. This world looks familiar. This is our first big corporation. Now all your thoughts about time and careful consideration are put into perspective. The Italians may not be a perfect body of people. However, the chocolate is delicious all the same. You get quality time in the gift shop and then it is on to Civita. The dying city.

As you stop for lunch in Civita, you are taken aback. The bridge to the city is massive. You are so lucky to see this city on your first clear day. As you pass under the archway, there is something magical about this place. You wander off the beaten path. You enter a small dark building. A man says "bruschetta." You should be terrified. Somehow you stay. You find yourself eating heavenly tomatoes on bread and some dessert cookie. The man's name is Fabrizzio. He speaks no English. You speak no Italian. He manages to ask where you are from. You say Baltimore. His eyes light up and he raises his sweater. He is wearing a Baltimore Orioles shirt. To many a Baltimorean, this would not matter. To you, a baseball-loving freak, it makes the whole trip. You get a picture. You smile, jump, and go wild. He manages you say "baseball?" You manage to say "si, si, favorito." That may be Spanish. You forget all about Giorgio and claim Fabrizzio as your soul mate. When you tell Giorgio, he is a little hurt and jealous. When you rejoin the group, you are instantly pulled away to see the parents of a dear old friend. Civita is your city. You were destined to be there. Perhaps you will go back and spend your life with Fabrizzio. Probably not. It is too far away from Orioles games.

You return to your bus and begin the long journey to Roma. Giorgio talks politics, gypsies, healthcare and education. He is passionate about every subject. He really helps you to see an Italian perspective on their government. He opens your eyes to all of the real grit behind this trip. You get the immersion you always wanted. You are grateful for strong opinions. You love when anyone feels the same way about education as you do. Hearing a passionate speaker makes you that much more confidant that you want to teach. You need to give others passion like that. Save the world and see the world. Those are really the only two goals out there. Otherwise, what is the point? The trip is flying by. It is disappearing right in front of you and you can't make it slow down.

Far too quickly, you are in Rome. You unload and then begin to go exploring. You go to the Trevvi Fountain. It is pretty surreal. You keep your mouth closed as you think about The Lizzie McGuire Movie. You throw your coin and feel as thought you are a part of the greater world. You are a traveler. You cannot be anything else. You get antsy being in any place for too long. You belong where you can explore the world. You get a really lovely last meal on your own. Risotto. It is excellent. You walk the city some more unwilling to go to be for fear that the next night really will mean the end. You journal that night and avoid sleep. However, eventually the sleep comes and the final morning follows not far behind.

Saturday
The whole day is a blur. The morning begins at the Vatican. You meet Nicki who will lead your tour through the museum. She insists on calling you all "family." Zach McRae does the best impression without fail. She guides you all through the museum speeding through so you have time to explore the Sistine Chapel. You see what you have heard about for years. The work is breath taking and you are so lucky to get to do all of this. You march onward to St. Peter's Basilica. Nicki tells the family that everything is made of marble. You pent almost a half hour trying to disprove her before you accept the masterpiece for what it is. You spend hours touring everything and the art coma almost sets in when it is time for a lunch break.

You eat your last ham cheese and bread. It is rushing how close the end is. You get some less than awesome gelato but you enjoy the sun and prepare for your last ride with Claudio. You will never again hear the werewolf sing. He drives you to the Colosseum. You say your goodbyes. He has no idea how much joy he caused you over the past week. You make your way to the Colloseum where Jarret is basically dry heaving because of his excitement. He probably could lead the tour just as well as Giovanni, our guide for both the Colosseum and the Forum. He told us lots of useful information that you may have heard if you weren't so excited to be a part of ancient Rome. The beauty of the ruins is simply overwhelming. You are drawn in and ready to travel back towards the past. You learn a few things about how Gladiators were considered less than human. And then Giovanni is silenced. He is not allowed to talk to you on the walk from the Colloseum to the Forum. He enters through the turnstiles and begins to show off all his knowledge of ancient Rome. He tells you what emperor and century holds claim over which column. It was incredibly impressive.

Looking at those columns, you can see how strong the past is. We do not built things to last more than fifty years, yet the Romans' great buildings are still standing. The work is incredible. It makes you want to have a lasting impact on the world. You stare at those columns for what seems like hours, getting lost in all of the strength and hard work. You want to do great things and build something that will last. You lose Giovanni in the distance again and have to remind yourself that you cannot constantly bounce off into profound thought.

As Giovanni's tour ends, you all begin the great walk to make pizza. You look at Rome as a modern city and it is fairly massive. You much prefer Florence or Sienna. Rome is lovely, but there are Romes all over the world. Sometimes, you need something a little more personal. You get to the pizza place. Some students start making food right away. Others eventually order pizza. Giorgio is enraged, but the last evening together is what is far more important. You get to present Giorgio with his tip and you decide to deliver an acrostic poem to go with it. G is for Good Looks. I is for Intelligence. O is for Obnoxious Nature. R is for Really Hard Time Navigating Cities. G is for [more] Good Looks. I is for Incredible Ability To Make Me Swoon. O is for Oratory Skills. Sometimes, you are crazy.

You enjoy your final meal savoring every second. You go against a wild night out and choose a night in filling out Giorgio's evaluation. You end the trip simply, coming full circle. You spend a lot of time thinking about the past and all of the great memories that came before. You look toward the future taking every experience and letting them shape you. You tried new things you had never thought about. You also accomplished secret dreams along the way. This trip was far more perfect than you could have ever imagined. There is not one moment that you could regret or would change. You lived and you were incredibly happy.

Food Traditions Essay: The Perfect Apple Pie
My family does not have many food traditions. We are outside eaters. We love restaurants and we always have. There is nothing better than going out with the whole family and being far too loud and laughing far too hard. My family could not be closer, but if you were to stick us in a kitchen, our healthy relationships would be shattered. However, for every moment my family lacks traditional domesticity, our best friends fill the gap. Cindy, my mother's best friend, was always responsible for the family tradition. We were basically an extension of their family so we got to steal all the great recipes.

My favorite thing to make in the entire world is Cindy's Apple Pie. It is like tasting everything that an apple was ever meant to be. Cinnamon and sugar swirl together with the best pie topping in all the world to make a little piece of heaven. I ate it at every major birthday party growing up. My mother began to make it for other major holidays because I was never happy without that pie. Around my middle school year, the pie began to fade in my memory and I stopped my apple obsession. However, the next time that pie would enter my life, it would never leave.

I began to make the heavenly apple pie when I was sixteen years old. I could pretend like I began to love domestic work or wanted to better represent my family. I could also just be honest and admit I did it to impress a boy. There is no need to be ashamed of this adolescent action because I was incredibly successful. Who could turn down this delicious creation? The trouble comes when you make one pie for someone, they find a way to tell all of their friends about your amazing treat. Soon I was the pie girl, which is a fairly lucky reputation to get in an unforgiving high school environment. I made pies for teachers and students alike. This tradition now belonged to me.

This pie is something that I cannot make mistakes with. I am an expert and I am continually proud of myself. Each apple slice and sprinkle of cinnamon is done with love and cannot be made without the magic touch. No one can make a better apple pie than me. I dare you to try. Following the recipe is not enough; you have to have heart.

INGREDIENTS

• 4 to 6 apples
  
• frozen pie crust
  
• about 2 cups sugar
  
• cinnamon
  
• 1 cup flour
  
• 1 stick softened butter (only butter will do)
  
• aluminum foil covered cookie sheet

1. Mix 1/2 cup sugar and 1 teaspoon sugar; set aside for apples
   
2. Peel and slice 4 (more like 6 if they are small) apples
   
3. Coat apples with above mixture
   
4. Make crumb topping:
   1. use finger tips, do not over-mush
      
   2. 3/4 cup sugar
      
   3. 1 cup flower
      
   4. 1 stick softened butter

5) Put apple mixture in frozen pie crust
6) place on sturdy, covered baking sheet  
7) Put crumb topping on pie; press all of it on 
8) Bake for 10 minutes @ 450 degrees

              THEN

9) Bake 40 minutes @ 350 degrees

PHOTOS: Food Science Course in Italy