All posts filed under: Easter

Bread Whore – Holla’, erm… Challah!

I’m a card carrying member of Bread Hoarders Anonymous.  So, Forget that I have a package of English Muffins in the fridge (and one in the freezer). Never mind that there are a dozen buttermilk biscuits, 8 corn muffins, a bag of Tablouleh rolls, 2 packs of flour tortillas, a tube of canned biscuits, and a loaf of sandwich bread lounging around in the cupboards. And you didn’t even see the  disk of Cracker bread, a half-eaten box of water crackers and assorted saltine shaped things only slightly hidden from prying eyes. I haven’t had any bread in 3 years. And, Unless they come with a warrant – that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Because I’m such a pillar of the BHA community, I decided to not do bread this year for Easter Dinner. Regardless what you may have heard, there was none of this… … parading up alongside of the Herb Crusted Rolled Lamb Steaks. and there definitely wasn’t any of this… Served up in hearty slabs with the Broccoli & Leek Cream Gratin. …

Rolled Pork Roast with Coriander Chutney

I prowl the international markets in the Atlanta area, a stalker – if you will. I rummage through the oddities of greenery in the fresh market – I poke at the slabs of petrified fish stacked like cords of funky hardwood – I jiggle the vats of condiments and kimchi trying to digest the ingredients – I’m entranced at the sparkling rows of  sauces, ointments, seasoning powders and poultices… my fingers tracing along the minuscule and confusing ingredient listings for that one component that one day will make that one stellar dish. On a recent foraging outing I came away with a bottle of very green Coriander Chutney. I had absolutely no idea what I’d use it for… but I didn’t already have one… and the pantry shelves still had a couple of inches that weren’t occupied. So, home it came – and on the shelf it went… next to the disturbing jar of MudFish (bought during a particularly vulnerable moment) and the plastic bottle of dried baby shrimp that sound like a maracas if you shake them while singing …

Mocha Torte with Butterscotch Filling – and the Easter Shoot

Many years ago I inherited a rabbit from a friend moving out to the West Coast. He was a three-foot American Checkered named Sebastian. He was the singular greatest animal I’ve ever owned. He was house trained – spent most of his time standing and walking on his hind legs… ate out of a swanky cat bowl… sat on the sofa with me and watched tv… entertained anyone that came over for dinner with clever tricks… prowled the house at night and squealed like a banshee when strangers came to the door. I couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t have rabbits. 12 years or so ago, I decided to have another go with a rabbit, a Black Silkie – Feijoada. She was a horror. I was bitten repeatedly (read that as daily… multiple times) , she chewed through every electrical – speaker – charger cord in the house – ate through 3 pairs of jeans – and took to stealing potatoes from the kitchen and hiding them under the sofa… where I’d find them months later when they began …