When I turn the egg shaped door handle of my grandma's front door on Christmas, I smell the perfectly cooked, sweet, juicy apples of her homemade apple crisp. She knows how much I like it and makes it with me in mind.

“Is it done yet?”

“No, and even if it was, you would have to wait until dinner is over,” Grandma says.

Once dinner starts, it’s like a race to see who gets done first. There is a dispute between me, my dad, my brother, my uncle, and my cousin for who gets the first piece of apple crisp, and the last of course.

I personally find the apple crisp best after it cools. The apples are the juiciest and the crust on top is the perfect hardness. She never follows the recipe the same way and makes it a little different each time.

When I ask my grandma how she makes it so good, she says, “It’s pretty easy, but takes a special touch.”

I always bug my parents to get in the car and go to Grandma's house on Christmas because I anticipate and cannot wait to eat her perfectly cooked, homemade apple crisp.