Strudel

I liked the sour cherry strudel and the nut filled strudel.

Our great-aunt gave us each a piece of strudel.

Steffan grinned at him and pointed to the oven. “She’s got something good in there,” he said, and added sadly, “only we don’t get any till lunch.” / “Strudel,” Ruth said. “Whoever heard of eating strudel for breakfast?” / “You know, Son,” Paul said soberly, “there are certain items that come under female jurisdiction. Just why strudel is appropriate for lunch and not for breakfast is beyond mere masculine comprehension. But one must learn to accept the inevitable. Life is hard.”