Potluck!

Mormons love a good potluck...am I right, or am I right.  So being a stereotypical Mormon housewife, it stands to reason that I, too, love a good potluck.  What could be better than coming together bringing an assortment of food from who knows where, filled most likely with margarine or other friendly chemicals and with how many calories did you say? and consuming more than your fair share of them?  Add on the blessed arrangement of sharing serving utensils with all ages and illnesses and what do you have?  a recipe for a rip-roaring good eatin' experience rife with bathroom trips and stomachaches. 

In all seriousness, potlucks had a fond place in my heart for a short while-during my poor years, that is to say, when the only real meal I got every week/month was from a good potluck.  There is, indeed, a time and place for a free dinner.  Needless to say during those years, I was appalled to go to a dinner potluck that was really a dessert potluck because no one brought a main dish.  Those were sad days.  I'm sure you well remember the days of eating oatmeal twice a day and cereal for the other meal (of course, this was my specific diet, yours could have been ramen noodles and mac and cheese from the box with a little cup-o-soup on the side).

These days, I really like potlucks because I get to try out new desserts and dishes and people just have to eat them because they would feel bad otherwise.  The trick, of course, is to make it look desirable despite the taste.  How many times have you bitten into a delicious-looking potluck dessert only to chew, savor, and desire to spit it right back out again (raise of hands here)?  Another trick I have learned, besides not going to the potluck, is to eat before I go and therefore eat very little at the potluck.  This has worked a little, itty, bit, but not much.  I'm still working on it. 

Today, however, is a special day.  It is Norwegian Independence Day!  Yay for syttende mai!  For today's potluck (which is actually a work potluck and therefore slightly better than a church potluck) I made Berits sin eplepai, which translated is, Berit's apple pie.  Berit is an investigator who was interested in learning about the principles of the gospel and we taught her for about six months.  She has two darling daughters and I still keep in touch with them even though that was six years ago.  She makes a killer eplepai, which is not the same as your typical apple pie.  It is delicious (sorry-not to say American apple pie is not delicious). 

Here, finally, are the pictures: 

Cut up some apples and throw them in a pie plate.  Then throw on the vaniljekrem, which, I am sad to say, is NOT an American delicacy; that certainly makes us Americans inferior in regard to delicious pastries.  I used my Canadian mix to make it. 

 
Throw on the topping which is oh, so, melt-in-your-mouth good.  Don't forget the cinnamon and sugar. 

Bake it, and you are done.  Easy as eplepai.  Consume in large, delicious, sugary quantities.