Eostre 2007

RIGHT. Now that the cupcakes and the birthday dinner are out of the way, I only have one more birthday celebration to take care of before the Main Event of April: Easter!
Ah, how I just love Easter. The religious thing quite appeals to me: terrible events followed by a rebirth and an everlasting hope for the future. The gorgeousness of the ducks, chickens and bunnies is just lovely. I am especially drawn to Easter by the pagan roots of the festival: the eggs, the new life, the northern-hemisphere spring celebrations, the candles, the fertility rites. And I love the French tradition of celebrating Easter not so much with rabbits, but with bells (they bring the treats, not the Easter Bunny), and fish. The many-egged, super-fertile fish. When I was over there, I accidentally visited a chocolaterie in the week before Easter (biiiig mistake) and I was completely smitten, overwhelmed with joy at the beautiful and tiny chocolate fish, prawns, lobsters, clams and crabs. They had a 'five for two dollars' thing going, but they were almost too perfect to eat!
Note, I said almost.

A few years ago I celebrated Easter with an Easter Feaster for about twelve. From memory, we had sticky baked ribs, whole corn on the cobs, a few salads and roast jacket potatoes. My dessertly piece of resistance was, dare I say it, one of my finest hours. It was an enormous pavlova, covered with whipped cream, on top of which was a big birds' nest made of toffee, filled with dozens of brightly-coloured foil chocolate eggs. It looked AMAZING. I still dream about that pav, and I remember being in the kitchen, quietly panicking, wondering how the hell I was going to make a toffee nest in the humidity without the whole thing collapsing. (Cover an upside-down bowl with baking paper, sit it on a tray, and drizzle liberally. Insert in fridge immediately!) These days I panic much more loudly and much more in advance, but back then kitchen adventures didn't faze me much. Bring it on, I'd say.

After that, my next Easter offering was a French Provencal lunch for six. I made the pissaladiere, a goats' cheese, pear and walnut salad with vinaigrette, and a roast lemon chicken. Dessert was probably fruit and/or chocolate. That was such a lovely lunch... the table setting was all-white, crisp linens all round, a stunning cool day out on the verandah with a salty breeze coming in off the ocean. We all thought we were very lucky to be so enjoying ourselves!

ANYWAY. The point of all this is to ask myself: what am I going to do THIS year??? All I know is that for dessert, I am going to make Nigella's flourless chocolate cake from How To Eat, and throw tiny speckled chocolate birds' eggs over it. This is all I am sure of, so far.

French? Done it. Middle Eastern? Been there. Italian? Meh. Southern USA? The ribs covered it. Must think hard. Perhaps see what Ole Nigey reckons about Easter, in Feast. Then again, I have been relying on her a lot lately. There must be someone else with an opinion I can listen to. The new Donna Hay will be out soon, and I'm sure she'll be all on about Easter now.
What about a chilled soup?
Or a souffle?? Ooh, there's a challenge. For me and the oven both.
Hmm.

***update***

OK. Have located, in The Paris Cookbook by Patricia Wells, a slow-roasted salmon. And by slow, it's like 20 minutes. I think this could be me. And what if, for entree, I managed some mini-souffles? Ooh. Or perhaps the souffle might be a bit much, if we are having chocolate overload for dessert. Or maybe they could be very light and tasty, and only in ramekins? Like perhaps a herb and citrus souffle, or a goats' cheese? Would have to do a practice run first.