Sadly, I have neglected to make friends with the sorts of people who love this kind of Easter hubbub. No, no, wait! Scratch that! I do have very special friends who, in fact, love all of that Easter hubbub, but they mostly live very far away, which in fact makes the lack of Easter celebration that much sadder. And it's harder with all my friends being adults and all, with their own families and eggs and candy and shouty children. These things demand one's attention, you know.
Once upon a time, I had a very crafty Easter with some of those friends in a purple kitchen in Ohio, and every Easter since then, I think about that day, and our hunt for love-message-inside eggs hiding in pitchers on the mantle and in the soil of houseplants. I think back, too, to the unbelievable Easters from when I was young, the Easters that were happily clogged with delicious candy, amazing treasures, and perfect, quiet family time. My brother and I would be the hunters, and we'd search the whole house for candy -- some in plastic eggs, some not -- but all of it in pairs, so that when one of us found a treat, there was something for both of us. This, I think, was part of my parents' very clever ploy to make our siblinghood in their house a team-oriented event, rather than a fifteen-year bloodbath.
We'd find other Easter-y treasures, too, like stuffed animals, toys, and beautiful baskets, all either hidden or put on magnificent display by our very dedicated parents. Still in our pajamas, we'd gnaw on chocolate before breakfast, and it was the most luxurious thing a child could think of. We'd give the black jellybeans to my dad, which was, of course, very generous, considering that they were his favorite (and, interestingly enough, our least favorite). I would unwrap the thin colored foil from the chocolate eggs and bite each one in half widthwise, holding the half that wasn't in my mouth, inspecting the toothmarks in the surface. Easter was incredible.
This year, I was lucky to be with my parents for part of the holiday. Matthew and I met up with them in Michigan for a few days, but we headed back home on Sunday afternoon. This left me with an Easter that was only about six hours long, but believe me, I packed in the excitement. There were eggs to dye! Messages to scrawl in Sharpie! Hot vinegar to smell! Eggshells to pick off, bit by bit! Yolks to mash! Deliciousness to be had! This made the turnaround time -- you guessed it -- very short. I don't even think the dye had dried on the shells by the time I started peeling the eggs. It was an exercise in celebrating temporariness, in acknowledging the power (and um, total sadness) of fleeting joy. In a matter of moments, I had had an entire Easter. And then, in a quick-as-a-bunny flash, hooray! We had deviled eggs, which I must say, paired very well with my mama's crazy-good barbecue beef sandwiches. And, honestly, it was quite a relief to have no white dress to spill it on.
Dye & Devil Eggs
You'll need:
•a dozen eggs
•mayonnaise
•honey mustard
•sweet relish
•salt & pepper & paprika
Place eggs in a saucepan. Cover just barely with cold water. Bring to a boil, uncovered. As soon as you see big bubbles rising to the surface, turn off the heat. Put on a lid and leave 'em for 15 minutes. Gently pour out water, put them eggs in a colander, and run cold water on the eggs to cool them off. Bring to room temperature, or close to it. Quick! Dye your eggs! Take pictures! Quick! Peel them! Don't be sad, it's okay!
Slice eggs in half lengthwise and send the yolks into a bowl. Mash 'em. Add a few tablespoons of mayo, a tablespoon of relish, and a tablespoon of mustard. Mix and taste. Add more of anything so that it tastes really good. If it's getting a little too mayo-y for you, add some sour cream or Greek-style plain yogurt. Add salt and pepper. Spoon your mixture into the eggs, and top with paprika, capers, scallions, chives, or smoked salmon. Now it's officially Easter.
No comments:
Post a Comment