Well... judging by the Alsatians' remarks, we can't really call these "braedele" - to make a long story short, the only batch they thought "just right" was the burnt, too-flour-y one* - but we will, anyhow. For the sake of something or other.
Here's Tomi - our diligent little cook - starting things off with a roll and a pat. And there's the sky from our kitchen sink window...
Meanwhile, back in the living room: the band plays on - and so do Leo & (Big) Felix!
If I'd've been Candice, I'd've been RUNNING...!
Spot the Dirty Cookie? (This has been tradition ever since the first of these braedele fests, way back when. Advanced apologies to the more sensitive readers...)
* Too-flour-y, thanks to too many kittens' paws and thus too many re-rollings. Although I do love the idea of letting three three-year-olds and a seven-year-old help with the cutting, the reality of it can become somewhat overwhelming. Things probably could have been managed better, though. We'll have to see how we can better the kids' experience for next year.
