Easter Rabbit!?
Quotes of the Week:
"I refused to taste it on the grounds that it just wasn't nice" ~ My mom
"In the foothills of the Alps, for but a few fleeting spring days, this man will gather wild blossoms for your cocktail." ~ The Story of St. Germaine (Elderflower Liqeuer) from their Web Site
Imagine, readers, a small girl of five, golden brown hair tied back with a big pink ribbon, small feet in shiny patent Mary-Janes swinging to and fro as she sits in a dining room chair too tall for her little legs. She clutches a new stuffed bunny with floppy ears to the front of her lacy white and yellow dress with short poofy sleaves.
She is happy to no longer be wearing the crazy frilly hat which tied around her chin. And, after a morning of hunting for brightly colored Easter eggs, she is hungry. Probably, her blood sugar is crashing because she ate too many jelly beans and one cute yellow peep, the only one, in fact, which will be eaten. The rest of the peeps are doomed to go untouched, becoming hard and inedible in their cellophane and cardboard tomb.
Laid out before the little girl is a feast of ham, potato salad, canned black olives, some kind of vegetable she has no interest in, jello salad with marshmallows, rolls and butter, and some kind of mystery meat her mother won't let her touch. Her aunt is sitting at the end of the table chuckling about something. The little girl has no idea what's funny, but she likes to see her aunt laugh so she giggles in childish camaraderie.
In the kitchen, hidden from the innocent eyes of that little girl clutching her stuffed bunny and giggling, lurks the source of her aunt's amusement. Lying in a roast pan, with a kitchen towl like the shroud of turin over top, is the cooked carcass of none-other-than the Easter Bunny himself. And, while one mother and three children abstained from partaking in the mystery meat on the table, several of the other adults in the room said, "Hmmm... tastes interesting..."
Yep. You guessed it readers. That little girl was me about 30 years ago. And, it was my aunt that thought it would be amusing to serve rabbit on Easter.
I worshipped the Easter Bunny, reveling in the miracles of hidden eggs, chocolate bunnies in his image, jelly beans, colorful Easter grass and peeps. Oh, I was very devout when it came to the bringer of Easter goodness. Just the week prior I had made a picture for the Easter Bunny in our backyard using rocks and sidewalk chalk, before which I prayed that he wouldn't forget to put robin's eggs in my basket. I would have been mortified if I had known that my aunt cooked him for our Easter feast.
Perhaps on some level I knew. Really, was it any different than receiving holy communion in church. My small mind may have been able to imagine that the Easter Bunny would be resurrected in time to hide eggs and leave Easter baskets the following year. My mother was not about to take this chance.
Well, anyway, I don't really celebrate Easter anymore, though I do so still love the eggs, the bunnies, the colorful grass, the baskets, the cocktails...
Oh wait a minute. We never had Easter cocktails growing up. Well, my Aunt probably did. (You know I get it from somewhere right?)
But, as long as we are speaking of cocktails... V, LP and I went to Lucy on 18th Street between Park and Broadway after three individual arduous days at work on Monday. Lucy has long been a place that I enjoy having a cocktail or two. Most often during the week, it's quiet, and the space is lovely but not pretentious. The bar is grey stone with squares of colored glass set in. The mirrors, candlight and white walls provide an atmosphere that is warm and open.
The bartender at Lucy makes an excellent cocktail. I ordered a Ketel One martini with olives, slighlty dirty, and that is exactly what I received. It was neither too dirty nor not dirty enough. Goldilocks has found her martini. V. and LP ordered a house cocktail with rum and passionfruit and requested less sweetness than the norm. They both seemed pleased.
Often, when V, LP and I get together, our conversation turns, at some point, to food or alcohol or both. We were delighted to discover that the bartender at Lucy is a true liquor enthusiast. This is one of the things I enjoy most about Lucy. Sometime last year when I was there, I was treated to an infusion lesson by the sommelier who had just opened a fresh bottle of chili- and chocolate-infused vodka. They know their liquor.
When our conversation turned to ginger, the bartender offered us a taste of Domaine de Canton, a handmade French Ginger Liqeuer. According to their Web site, the producer uses "fresh baby ginger" (sounds as morbid as cooking the Easter Bunny, I know). The liqeuer is sweet with a subtle ginger touch and a nice vanilla flavor.
We also sampled Licor 43, a candy-sweet liquid from Spain and St. Germaine Elderflower Liqeuer, which you already know I love. In addition to coming in a beautiful bottle, the elderflower is like spring on your tongue. In fact, as mentioned above, someone in the Alps gathers the delicious wild elderflower blossoms each spring so that I may enjoy them in my cocktail. So thoughtful!
The tasting of the Canton led LP to request that the bartender mix a new cocktail. He obliged. Named in her honor, the Parker Negroni is a concoction of Hendrick's gin, canton, and dry vermouth with a wedge of orange. I don't think it's been officially added to the menu, but perhaps, if you ask for it, and Patrick is tending the bar, he will mix one for you.
The long days continued through Friday, but thankfully, the week was capped off by another night out on Friday. CME and I had a deliciously lovely experience on Friday night at Grape and Grain on East 6th Street between Avenues B and C.
I started with a quarto of Côtes du Rhône, and CME ordered a quarto of Syrah from Chile. I found the Syrah much tastier than my Côtes du Rhône, and after the first quartos were gone we split a bottle of the Syrah. The bartender explained to us that it was more economical than ordering two more quartos. Sure we would have to drink more wine, but we weren't bothered!
What better to indulge in with a bottle of wine that a plate full of cheese? We were both super excited when the bartender unveiled five good-sized wedges of varying cheeses. The center of the plate was graced with a gorgeous dollop of fig spread and sliced grapes, and a multigrain raisin bread was served on the side. My faves were the blue, the goat and the stinky. (As you can see I failed to write down the names.)
We spent nearly four hours sitting at the corner of the bar drinking and munching. After the cheese plate was devoured, we snacked on white bean dip and spicy pita chips. Spending such a long time at a bar on a Friday night is a testament to the comfortable atmosphere at Grape and Grain. The bartenders are friendly, the room is cozy and the food and drink excellent.
And, readers, it is these indulgent evenings and my recent falling off the yoga wagon (again) which have led to an increase in pants size for yours truly. I went shopping yesterday. The tags don't lie!
But, I don't plan on giving up the cheese! Or the wine! Perhaps cutting back a little. And exercising. After Argentina. That's my Easter resolution. You heard it. Hold me to it! And stay tuned! I will be gone the next two Sundays, but friends CM and Jennifer have graciously agreed to be guest contributors.
Before I leave you, huge kudos and thanks to Mrs. O who took me out on the town and made me look like a superstar. My new profile picture was taken by her a few weeks ago. Check out more of her work at www.mrsophoto.com.
Quotes of the Week:
"I refused to taste it on the grounds that it just wasn't nice" ~ My mom
"In the foothills of the Alps, for but a few fleeting spring days, this man will gather wild blossoms for your cocktail." ~ The Story of St. Germaine (Elderflower Liqeuer) from their Web Site
Imagine, readers, a small girl of five, golden brown hair tied back with a big pink ribbon, small feet in shiny patent Mary-Janes swinging to and fro as she sits in a dining room chair too tall for her little legs. She clutches a new stuffed bunny with floppy ears to the front of her lacy white and yellow dress with short poofy sleaves.
She is happy to no longer be wearing the crazy frilly hat which tied around her chin. And, after a morning of hunting for brightly colored Easter eggs, she is hungry. Probably, her blood sugar is crashing because she ate too many jelly beans and one cute yellow peep, the only one, in fact, which will be eaten. The rest of the peeps are doomed to go untouched, becoming hard and inedible in their cellophane and cardboard tomb.
Laid out before the little girl is a feast of ham, potato salad, canned black olives, some kind of vegetable she has no interest in, jello salad with marshmallows, rolls and butter, and some kind of mystery meat her mother won't let her touch. Her aunt is sitting at the end of the table chuckling about something. The little girl has no idea what's funny, but she likes to see her aunt laugh so she giggles in childish camaraderie.
In the kitchen, hidden from the innocent eyes of that little girl clutching her stuffed bunny and giggling, lurks the source of her aunt's amusement. Lying in a roast pan, with a kitchen towl like the shroud of turin over top, is the cooked carcass of none-other-than the Easter Bunny himself. And, while one mother and three children abstained from partaking in the mystery meat on the table, several of the other adults in the room said, "Hmmm... tastes interesting..."
Yep. You guessed it readers. That little girl was me about 30 years ago. And, it was my aunt that thought it would be amusing to serve rabbit on Easter.
I worshipped the Easter Bunny, reveling in the miracles of hidden eggs, chocolate bunnies in his image, jelly beans, colorful Easter grass and peeps. Oh, I was very devout when it came to the bringer of Easter goodness. Just the week prior I had made a picture for the Easter Bunny in our backyard using rocks and sidewalk chalk, before which I prayed that he wouldn't forget to put robin's eggs in my basket. I would have been mortified if I had known that my aunt cooked him for our Easter feast.
Perhaps on some level I knew. Really, was it any different than receiving holy communion in church. My small mind may have been able to imagine that the Easter Bunny would be resurrected in time to hide eggs and leave Easter baskets the following year. My mother was not about to take this chance.
Well, anyway, I don't really celebrate Easter anymore, though I do so still love the eggs, the bunnies, the colorful grass, the baskets, the cocktails...
Oh wait a minute. We never had Easter cocktails growing up. Well, my Aunt probably did. (You know I get it from somewhere right?)
But, as long as we are speaking of cocktails... V, LP and I went to Lucy on 18th Street between Park and Broadway after three individual arduous days at work on Monday. Lucy has long been a place that I enjoy having a cocktail or two. Most often during the week, it's quiet, and the space is lovely but not pretentious. The bar is grey stone with squares of colored glass set in. The mirrors, candlight and white walls provide an atmosphere that is warm and open.
The bartender at Lucy makes an excellent cocktail. I ordered a Ketel One martini with olives, slighlty dirty, and that is exactly what I received. It was neither too dirty nor not dirty enough. Goldilocks has found her martini. V. and LP ordered a house cocktail with rum and passionfruit and requested less sweetness than the norm. They both seemed pleased.
Often, when V, LP and I get together, our conversation turns, at some point, to food or alcohol or both. We were delighted to discover that the bartender at Lucy is a true liquor enthusiast. This is one of the things I enjoy most about Lucy. Sometime last year when I was there, I was treated to an infusion lesson by the sommelier who had just opened a fresh bottle of chili- and chocolate-infused vodka. They know their liquor.
When our conversation turned to ginger, the bartender offered us a taste of Domaine de Canton, a handmade French Ginger Liqeuer. According to their Web site, the producer uses "fresh baby ginger" (sounds as morbid as cooking the Easter Bunny, I know). The liqeuer is sweet with a subtle ginger touch and a nice vanilla flavor.
We also sampled Licor 43, a candy-sweet liquid from Spain and St. Germaine Elderflower Liqeuer, which you already know I love. In addition to coming in a beautiful bottle, the elderflower is like spring on your tongue. In fact, as mentioned above, someone in the Alps gathers the delicious wild elderflower blossoms each spring so that I may enjoy them in my cocktail. So thoughtful!
The tasting of the Canton led LP to request that the bartender mix a new cocktail. He obliged. Named in her honor, the Parker Negroni is a concoction of Hendrick's gin, canton, and dry vermouth with a wedge of orange. I don't think it's been officially added to the menu, but perhaps, if you ask for it, and Patrick is tending the bar, he will mix one for you.
The long days continued through Friday, but thankfully, the week was capped off by another night out on Friday. CME and I had a deliciously lovely experience on Friday night at Grape and Grain on East 6th Street between Avenues B and C.
I started with a quarto of Côtes du Rhône, and CME ordered a quarto of Syrah from Chile. I found the Syrah much tastier than my Côtes du Rhône, and after the first quartos were gone we split a bottle of the Syrah. The bartender explained to us that it was more economical than ordering two more quartos. Sure we would have to drink more wine, but we weren't bothered!
What better to indulge in with a bottle of wine that a plate full of cheese? We were both super excited when the bartender unveiled five good-sized wedges of varying cheeses. The center of the plate was graced with a gorgeous dollop of fig spread and sliced grapes, and a multigrain raisin bread was served on the side. My faves were the blue, the goat and the stinky. (As you can see I failed to write down the names.)
We spent nearly four hours sitting at the corner of the bar drinking and munching. After the cheese plate was devoured, we snacked on white bean dip and spicy pita chips. Spending such a long time at a bar on a Friday night is a testament to the comfortable atmosphere at Grape and Grain. The bartenders are friendly, the room is cozy and the food and drink excellent.
And, readers, it is these indulgent evenings and my recent falling off the yoga wagon (again) which have led to an increase in pants size for yours truly. I went shopping yesterday. The tags don't lie!
But, I don't plan on giving up the cheese! Or the wine! Perhaps cutting back a little. And exercising. After Argentina. That's my Easter resolution. You heard it. Hold me to it! And stay tuned! I will be gone the next two Sundays, but friends CM and Jennifer have graciously agreed to be guest contributors.
Before I leave you, huge kudos and thanks to Mrs. O who took me out on the town and made me look like a superstar. My new profile picture was taken by her a few weeks ago. Check out more of her work at www.mrsophoto.com.
Oh, had you only known, back then, that I like my Peeps stale or frozen, you could have sent them my way!
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