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The apple-cobbler-movie-marathon-of-fun...not so much. My back still hurts from hours of peeling and slicing apples.

The workstation at approximately 1p.m.
Observe:

• The clean newspaper
• The knife cover (at some point it disappeared...possibly into a batch of cobbler, but more likely into the garbage, hidden among ridiculous amounts of apple skins and cores
• The sunlight streaming through the window

We also started watching Clueless, or rather, it played in the background. I needed to devote my entire attention to learning how to peel apples with a knife (without adding bits of myself to the cobbler).

In preparation for the first batch of buttery, sugary, cinnamony goodness...


I'm confused.
Or rather, I was until just seconds ago when the internet provided me with the answer.
If the kid can pour salt on the bird's tail, it won't be able to fly away... it's a New Zealand thing.


Yum!


The first batch came out rather more goopy and wobbly than intended.
Flavor remained unaffected.

Better...

Since we hadn't bought many apples the day before, at this point I walked over to Fu Tai and bought 12x4 = 48 apples. The cashiers looked at me funny, but my main concern was lugging them back to the hostel. The apples, not the cashiers.

As productivity increased, we ruthlessly seized control of the 6th and 7th floor microwaves.

Fifth floor. We had a legitimate claim to this one.
If the microwave on my floor hadn't been broken, we could have used that one too.


6th floor.

7th floor.

I felt like a contestant on a game show dashing around in the lift, alternatively inserting or removing apple cobbler from the microwaves. Minus the television cameras and prize money.

Around this time we also wished for the appearance of the other two Americans who said they'd help. If only...

Then we ran out of butter, so I scurried back to the Park 'N' Shop for 6 more brick-sized blocks.

I also decided that efficiency demanded the purchase of a peeler (pictured above, left). Simple economics: My friend had finished decorating the ballot box/cutting out stars and was taking a turn at cutting apples. After stirring up a quick batch of the sugar mixture I would have been left idle. Without more capital equipment, we couldn't possibly maximize labor productivity.

Anyway...

Even though my partner ended up cutting herself (twice, but not badly) and I became both peeler and chopper (now we had excess capital) we still managed to quadruple our efficiency. Had we continued at the morning's rate, we wouldn't have finished until...probably never. Instead, we finished before 11.

But not before more interesting twists in our adventure...

After a quick dinner, I returned (last time!) to the Park 'N' Shop for 48 more apples.
This time I thought to bring along my backpack; without it my arms probably would have fallen off on the way to the hostel, scattering apples all over the road. And I would have stood by awkwardly and watched, because without arms, how could I have picked them back up?

Anyway, I think I ended up with the same cashier, and I wish I could have explained to her; both of us were laughing as she shoved apples into my backpack. The last few almost didn't fit, and I tried telling her to put those in a separate plastic bag (plus I didn't want to put on the backpack and instantly topple backwards) but she didn't understand. She just shook the bag a few times and strained the zipper shut.

The mess.

There'd been a more impressive pile earlier, but a kind housekeeper came by and held a large garbage bag open for us to scoop the peelings, cores, spilled flour and plastic knife cover into.

Then...

Disaster!

The French exchange student who'd been preparing dinner in the pantry told us we needed to come over...

The top rack dishwasher safe, microwave reheatable, freezer safe, Rubbermaid container had melted!

Thank goodness she noticed before the full 15 minutes were up. Since we couldn't serve this batch, we ate it instead.


Towards the end of the night a Korean friend stopped by and helped us (finally) finish. I think there were about 15 tins total. I wanted to take a picture of the ground-floor refrigerator that we stocked full, but when I went downstairs one of the guards was doing his inspection of the kitchen. I don't like to photograph the insides of fridges with other people around. So instead I opened up the freezer, checked that an imaginary item of food was still there, and then went over to the vending machine to pretend to choose a soda until he left. But the thing is, he didn't go. I must have seemed suspicious because he watched me until I gave up and left.

Then we (with help from the French and Korean exchange students. yay friends!) tidied up after ourselves.

Spotless.