I am really proud of myself for successfully re-creating one tiny part of my family’s Easter. While Thanksgiving may be better known as a ‘food holiday’, my stomach has always been more loyal to Easter. One day a year (or maybe a few more, depending on who gets stuck taking what leftovers) I can stuff my face with my favorite holiday foods: kielbasa, red pickled eggs and Easter cheese, piled on crackers with enough Gold’s horseradish to make you feel like you will never have a stuffy nose again. (The best part of this tradition is obviously watching everyone’s faces as they pile on the horseradish, which “isn’t as hot this year”)
Despite the fact that my mom’s recipe for pickled eggs called for two dozen, I was able to scale it down to a mere four (how many eggs can one girl eat, really?) and after filling my pantry with the ten or so spices necessary to make pickling spice (thanks to my new cookbook) and waiting two weeks for the brine to work its magic, I have enjoyed my first bite of Easter. A few days early but hey, it’s officially Easter weekend in my book, which is close enough.