Impressing a man with baking is always challenging. I asked him what his favorite desert was. "Apple Strudel" A Southerner with Euro Roots? Cookbook search. Going to make his grandma proud! There in all it's level 5 difficulty was the recipe. I worked that dough stretching and stretching and realized my small apartment kitchen table wasn't even going to be big enough. Contorting to keep it from falling to the floor, stretching paper-thin! After hours emerged the perfectly rolled, flaky butter-washed, layered strudel, gorgeously horseshoe shaped, slashed with care, hazelnut aroma, golden raisins, brandy cream sauce. I beamed. "What is this?" he looked perplexed. "Your favorite, Apple Strudel!" “No Strudel is the stuff you buy in a box and you can put in a muffin thingy and it has crumbs on top.” He just described STRUSEL, the icky-quicky box kind even! He married me anyway. I became a baking expert that day. I left a aluminum core bottom pot boiling, the water boiled out, the pot got outrageously hot. I realized when the house filled with smoke. When I lifted the pot, the bottom separated and molten aluminum, started bouncing all over the stove, kitchen, my shoes, and every place it touched, it melted or caught on fire!! SO STUPID! Ruined the floor, the stove, parts of the kitchen, and my beloved shoes. Thankfully I wasn't burned. I can cook/bake/simmer/saute'/smoke/can/brine and grill a "mean anything" but I had an epic fail in the water department! LOL