roast apple

Yesterday evening I had a nice visit from an old student. She is vegetarian, I am not. So, to prepare a snack which we both liked, we did baked apples. While preparing them, she asked me, if I knew the one poem the witch from Hansel and Gretel did not like at all. So if anyone out there is German-speaking, he´ll know the answer immediately, at least, when he thinks of cosy evenings spent in front of a fireplace, eating chestnuts and baked apples. It´s the poem of the Bratapfel she is very afraid of. Its first lines translated into English  would be like: Children, come here and guess what we´ve got roasting in the oven. My daughter had a fit because of this. No, not because she´s a witch herself and sympathised with her fellow member, she generally does not like anything that once had legs and was able to bounce around roasting in an oven. Her mood did not improve when I told her that in former times no oven was needed to burn a witch, but at least she made off to her room and did not sulk in front of us any longer. I know, sometimes I am a bad mother.