A lesson in baking strudel and family traditions

I have always been fascinated by the power of food and its link to culture. When I married into an Austrian family, I was lucky enough to enjoy and taste my fair share of schnitzel, spaetlze, potato salad, sauerkraut, apple strudel and countless other baked goods.

My immediate and extended family (of which there are hundreds) are members of the The Alpine Club in Kitchener, ON. Actually, we nearly make up the entire club. My husband’s relatives were among several people who built it in the 1950s, and since then, their many offspring have populated it. The holidays are a particularly busy time there, when events are held for every season. During these occasions, the kitchen is filled with Moms, Aunts and Omas in aprons, working grueling hours to feed countless mouths. Oktoberfest is perhaps the height of activity, because after all…The Alpine Club's strudel is legendary.

When I realized that the strudel recipe and its technique seemed to live and remain in The Alpine Club kitchen, a few of us from the younger generation decided that we too wanted to know the secrets to this amazing strudel. So, a few years ago we approached one of the club’s members – someone who had her finger on the pulse of the kitchen, and asked her to teach us. Low and behold, lovely Anne was kind enough to take the four of us into her home one fall Sunday, and attempt to teach us how to make apple strudel, passing on over 60 years of knowledge in one day.

Entering her home that Sunday morning, the aroma of chicken noodle soup was in the air. Anne was ready for us. An oversize table set up in the centre of her kitchen, pots, pans and ingredients ready to go. She explained the process from making the dough to letting it rest. Then we left the dough covered in a slightly warm oven until it became remarkably stretchy. Oh, and that's when we got to eat the soup…yay! Next, we soaked the raisins, chopped the apples, measured the spices and cottage cheese and melted the butter…and then a little more butter. Then, we rolled up our sleeves, put on our aprons and got to work.

It soon became clear that the two most important things in strudel making are: time and manpower (or oma-power). The dough requires a lot of time to rest and there is a significant amount of apple chopping and prep work to be done. And, seeing as our family is so big, you don’t just make one strudel, you make enough to “feed for the season.” Regardless, things were going well. Lots of chatting, laughing, nibbling, the way it should be in the kitchen.

However things took a turn from jovial to darn serious when the time came to assemble. Four women, with Anne as our coach/supervisor took position around the huge table. Anne spread a bed sheet (strictly a 'strudel bed sheet') over the table and then floured it well. She placed our first batch of warm, soft, shiny dough in the centre of the table and then using a rolling pin, rolled it out to the size of a pizza shell. Then, she set the roller aside and stated, “it’s time to stretch.” She demonstrated by gently sliding our hands under the dough into the centre, then slowly drawing them back, we stretch the dough to the size of the table. That’s right, one 12 inch circle of dough covered a 5x3 foot table. Then we each began to reach under and gently pull and stretch the dough toward our section of the table. It was like magic…it worked. Did we make mistakes? Of course! One slight wrong move and a hole would pop open, resembling a run in a pair of pantyhose. However our encouraging coach was relentlessly optimistic, rushing around us, patching up our holes and making it all work. The legend is that strudel dough should be so thin that you can read the newspaper through it. It was…and we did. Okay we didn’t - but we could have.

Next we spread out and scattered our apples, raisins, spices, butter and cottage cheese…easy-peasy at this point. Anne then assembled all of us on one side of the table. We each take an edge of the bed sheet and began to roll up the strudel. Slowly, in tandem, rolling and rolling until we had one giant 5-foot strudel, which we cut in half. Then, with the ease of a mother picking up a baby, Anne swooped and placed each strudel into a roasting pan without a single raisin falling out.

I can’t of course share her recipe that would most certainly be a breach of trust – so you’ll have to find a strudel recipe of your own. Or more importantly, find an Anne. If the opportunity is out there for you to cook with someone in your life, do it. Food has a direct link to our hearts, and has the ability to bring us together like nothing else can. That afternoon I learned to make strudel (sort of), but better yet, I learned a little bit more about what it means to be part of my family. That day the four of us were lucky enough to get a small glimpse into the kitchens and homes of the women who have preceded us – and it was awesome. Baking time: If this has you craving some homemade strudel, try our apple strudel.

Originally published October 13, 2012.