My grandmother Marta did not bake cakes. Cakes need a scale, and she did not trust scales. But on winter Sundays, she made a baked apple. It needed no recipe. This is how she made it.
Take one apple for each person. Cut out the hard middle with a small knife. Leave the bottom closed.
Fill the hole with a few nuts, a few raisins, one spoon of honey and a pinch of cinnamon. Put the apples in a dish with a little water.
Bake them in a hot oven for thirty minutes. The skin wrinkles. The kitchen smells like December. Eat them warm.
We waited by the oven for the smell. Grandmother always said: "The apple is already sweet. You only help it a little."
Every Journeva story exists at four levels — same plot, same characters, richer language each step. Here is how this one begins at each level.
B1 · IntermediateMy grandmother Marta did not bake cakes. Cakes need measuring, and she did not trust scales, or recipes, or anyone who told her how long a thing should take. …
B2 · Upper intermediateMy grandmother Marta never baked cakes. Cakes demanded measuring, and she trusted neither scales nor recipes, nor anyone who told her how long a thing ought to take. …
Read the whole story at A2, B1 and B2
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