If you read my earlier post, you know I’ve been kind of dreading Easter this year. I mean, what is it all about if there aren’t little kids (or any kids) around to search for eggs, dive into Easter candy and make a fancy meal together?
In order to not be seen as completely pathetic, I PROMISE I will at least keep one tradition despite this empty nest – for Easter breakfast, I WILL make Grandma’s Dutch Baby Pancake.
As my kids grew from toddlers to tweens to teens, getting up early for anything was increasingly difficult. One sure fire method I’ve found for rousing them out of bed, however, is to prepare a warm, aromatic breakfast.
Having been raised in a family of spectacular cooks, it’s always been fun to prepare traditional recipes of my childhood. For a quick, simple and healthy Easter breakfast sure to please your family and friends, why not try my grandmother’s Dutch baby pancake?
Grandma’s Dutch Baby Pancake Recipe:
Ingredients:
2 T. butter
½ c. milk
½ c. flour
¼ c. sugar
2 eggs
1 T. butter softened
pinch of nutmeg
lemon wedges
powdered sugar or maple syrup (optional)
First, preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Next, melt 2 T. butter in a 10-inch ovenproof skillet (I use Grandma’s cast iron) over medium heat. Make sure the butter covers the entire bottom and sides of the pan. Then, use a blender to puree together milk, flour, sugar, eggs, softened butter and nutmeg in a bowl. Pour into skillet. Cook 1 minute. Finally, place the pan in the oven and bake 12-15 minutes, until puffed and golden. Be prepared to serve immediately-it will deflate after you remove it. Slice into wedges, and serve with fresh lemon, powdered sugar or syrup. Serves 4.
C, long ago Easter, with Grandma Sue watching (she’s the current Dutch Baby Pancake expert!)
Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.
~ Easter eggs already? This is the first Easter since I became a mom that I will have no children at home. No egg hunt. No Easter baskets – except for the treats I mailed to Boston and Park City. Nada. Not sure I’ll even get any decorations out… I’ve been dreading Easter thinking of Easter for months…of course, this year would have to be the year that it falls at the END of April. I’ve fallen into a writing rut, spending much more time and energy on teaching than I should. It keeps me from the quiet of the empty nest, I guess.
Just to torture myself, I’m reading through old posts, and instead of writing about Easter without kids, I thought I’d spiff up this oldie-but-goodie. For all of you empty-nesters out there, can you send me some thoughts about how to distract myself from the Easter egg blues?
Love,
Jennifer
My daughter has always had a competitive streak. I’m not sure if it’s nature or nurture…being blessed as the first born of two first-born parents, first born grandparents and yes, even first-born great-grandparents definitely explain a few of her personality traits. I guess that new parents just get excited about everything….new. My husband and I couldn’t wait to start up family traditions with her, and one of our favorites involved Easter.
Both my husband and I came from families where Easter egg hunts were a big deal. We had very similar childhood experiences – we were required to dress in our best clothes, would drive to grandma and grandpa’s house in the Bay Area, and would gather with our aunts, uncles, and cousins in the backyard. The anticipation was huge…we knew there would be carefully hidden eggs, enough for everyone to fill at least one basket. If we were lucky and looked really hard, we could find something special, too.
Creating memories
When our daughter was born, we knew we wanted to re-create our childhood memories. For the first few years, it wasn’t that exciting-babies and toddlers couldn’t really rejoice in the vinegar egg dying process, and usually scream at the sight of a giant, hairy Easter bunny. However, by the time our girl was three-and-a-half, we were ready.
Easter morning in California is usually quite pleasant, and this year didn’t disappoint. We dressed her in a beautiful homemade cotton print dress, put on her white eyelet socks and black patent leather shoes. She looked like she could march in the finest Easter parade in town. Instead, we went into the garden.
A few days earlier, we had routinely dyed hard-boiled eggs and left them out the night before for the Easter Bunny to hide. But unbeknownst to our daughter, we had also hidden plastic Easter eggs, just to increase the fun. And to make it even more exciting, we (I) stuffed the plastic eggs before putting them in the garden. Pennies, jellybeans, beads, stickers and small candies went inside most of them, but when I ran out of treats, I left those empty.
The Easter egg hunt
Our egg hunt began as it always did-mom, dad and grandma scurrying after her, video cameras in hand. We exclaimed in unison as she found each egg, and helped her fill her basket. Soon she realized that there were three kinds of eggs-those that were hard-boiled, those that were plastic and made noise when she shook them and those that were plastic and empty.
Even at three years old, her competitive streak was showing, and instead of placing each egg in her basket as she found it, squealing in delight, she began shaking each one violently. If the appropriate sound resulted, the egg went in the basket. If the egg was silent, it went over her shoulder back into the bushes.
While we dissolved into peals of laughter, she meticulously made her way around the garden searching for the egg-booty. When satisfied she had covered all the territory, she announced, “All done”, and ran off into the house.
Pre-teenage Easter egg hunting
Easter egg memories
But pennies aren’t so exciting anymore -thank goodness gift cards are too big!
As a result, we found many discarded plastic Easter eggs in the garden that summer. Our attempt at starting a family tradition, however, was quite successful. Even now, our teenagers still prefer plastic to the real thing.
This post originally appeared on the Yahoo Contributor Network.
Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.
Get ready, weekend.
My boys are both in their beds. When I check on the little one, he still looks like my three-year-old Bob The Builder. I’ll still make him an Easter basket today.
My furry 16 pounds of fury is curled up, quietly snoring by my side.
Fresh Sumatra steams within arm’s reach.
My girl is waking up in a tent in a Utah state park, ready for a day of climbing and paddle boarding adventures. I’m gazing at her senior portrait and trying not to wish she was here. 4 more weeks, but who’s counting after 12…
The crow’s cacophony woke me up – I’m glad they’re off on their adventures, replaced by the morning song of the mockingbird wafting through my open window.
A train whistles in the distance.
The wind has stopped for now; a reprieve before the storm rolling in tonight-just in time for Easter. Soon, Mom will arrive with a ham and potatoes and her beautiful smile. The boys will be happy.
Get set, weekend.
One girlfriend is baking 60 apple pies today to send her boy to China this summer. Another friend is missing her daughter’s 21st. My ski mama bestie is tearing it up on the mountain we love for her birthday.
Today, my weekend to-do list shouts out laundry and dishes and fill the bird feeders and grocery and mail L a package. Ironing (seriously, who irons?). Clean the house. Walk the dog. Hard boil the eggs and make pull-apart cinnamon rolls for Easter morning. I’ll probably dye them all by myself this year.
And those virtual piles of never-ending Steinbeck essays (58 to be exact, but who’s counting after 93). Crap. That’s 6.76 hours right there…
And then there’s church. And weekend baking. Maybe yoga and a bike ride if I’m lucky and have some free time…
The sun is up now. Damn, I missed the lunar eclipse. The boys are all still sleeping. The dog is still snoring by my side. The mockingbirds are still singing, but my coffee mug is empty.
It’s an ordinary weekend. But chicks with coffee can do anything.
Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.
