My original plan for Easter was to make scrambled eggs, turn on a romantic comedy, and wedge myself into the couch cushions like a stale Dorito. Throwing a brunch was at the bottom of my agenda, along with 5 a.m. pilates and a trip to the orthodontist. But then things changed: On Monday I came across a recipe for croissant french toast. On Tuesday prosecco was on sale at the grocery store, and on Wednesday the front yard erupted in little purple flowers. By Thursday night, I was poring over cookbooks and draft menus and salivating like a golden retriever.
I wanted brunch to be a little fancy. We live 40 minutes outside of Chicago, and I didn’t want our friends to drive out here for pastel M&Ms and soggy quiche. I also didn’t want our house to look like it normally does–which is a cross between a laundromat and a lost & found department–but one out of two isn’t bad, right? Here’s what we ate:
- deviled eggs (I’ve written about them here.)
- cayenne candied bacon (An Emiril Lagasse recipe. These didn’t crisp up the way I hoped they would.)
- smoked turkey and Jarlsberg salad (I grew up on this salad from The Silver Palate Cookbook.)
- croissant french toast casserole (This is from Pinch of Yum. It was great; I’ll add nuts next time.)
- herb & cheese scones (from Jane on Fillmore, in San Francisco, via Bon Appétit. Everyone loved these except for me.)
- fruit salad
At least, we tried to play bocce. Thunder got mad that we were leaving her out, and she started interfering.She made it impossible for our friend Graham to throw the ball for a full 20 minutes.And when he finally did throw the ball, she plopped down in the center of the field and prevented further play.But at least she didn’t eat a kid’s tutu like she did last year.
Happy Easter to you, my friends!