Ever since I can remember, every year at Easter we'd have one of those Easter Lamb cakes. It used to be, if I can pull it out of my memory correctly (and feel free to advise me if I'm wrong) something store bought that my Gramma and Grandpa H would pick up. Funny, as I sit here trying to remember what else we had Easter day, the two things that come to my mind are the Lamb Cake and the Butter mold in the shape of a Lamb.
I remember my two younger brothers always making such a huge deal over that lamb cake. Covered in coconut, had black licorice for eyes, and a jellybean for a nose, we always seemed to shy away from eating it. Made of pound cake, covered in a white frothy frosting, didn't make any bit of a difference with my brothers, when it came to eating it-or not eating it for that matter.
I don't know if it was the image of "eating a lamb," (not that it stopped them when they delved into the many helpings of pineapple glazed ham that my parents put on their plate) that freaked them out. Or maybe because it always seemed as if they got the ASS of the lamb.
Who wants to eat the ass of a lamb cake?
Now, personally I'd rather have the Ass than the head. If I recall correctly there was always a comment made, amongst the kids, directed at the one poor soul that got stuck with the head of the lamb. Ewww.
At least the ass part of the cake is "meatier."
I remember not wanting that poor cake AND the butter shaped lamb mold to be disassembled by my Grandparents knife.
It never failed, as soon as she was separated into pieces, we'd always start teasing one another over the different parts that we were given. We never had a choice either. It was "eat what you're given, and don't complain."
"Be grateful that you even have cake, there are those that are less fortunate."
Funny how I can remember that as one of my main Easter memories at my Grandparents house.
That and the one about my Grandpa trying to shoot the Easter bunny with his BB gun. Every year I'd hope that he'd miss him. Every year I'd wish for that bunny to stay the heck away from Lancaster lane...There was a small part of me that feared for that bunny's life-probably because that would impact the level of candy that always appeared in my Easter basket each year.
Ahhh, memories of Easter. Like I said, besides the butter mold and Lamb cake, I don't recall what else we had to eat. I do recall the laughter of those Easters.
I do recall going into my Aunts bedroom and pulling out the bottom drawer where she kept dolls and coloring books for us. I do recall my oldest Uncle rolling around "rough housing" with my brothers, and having races out in my grandparents backyard between his daughter and my brothers. She'd always smoke them, and there'd usually be someone crying, but it makes me smile to think about that.
My other aunt sitting on the couch, glasses on, knees tucked up underneath her, involved with a good book in the midst of all the chaos over the Lambcake.
My other Uncle cracking jokes with his "pa," enjoying the rise out of the conversations between him, my grandpa, my other Uncle, and my Dad.
I remember when I first met that same Uncle's now wife. How they'd sit at the kitchen table and gab with my grandparents. How my grandpa would sit there and BS like there's no tomorrow, with his beer in hand and this look on his face. I wish I could explain it, but it was as if someone had painted this sneer, or smirk across his face, but yet his eyes still twinkled. He was always up to something.
My grandma sitting at the one side of the table, with her coffee and cigarettes, always taking the time to show us how to play solitaire.
I guess that's what matters, right? It's not about the food, it's about the memories.
It's about what Easter is.
Forgiveness and Forgetting.
The day of atoning, like the Jewish holiday, Yom Kippur.
Having another chance to start fresh. To not be judged by your past mistakes. But to move forward.
It's about having your 11 year old cousin resurrect the very thing that used to be a running joke between my siblings and myself. Now that my grandparents have long since joined the angels up in the sky, my lil budding artist of a cousin has taken on the one thing that stands out in my mind from my Easter memories as a little girl. Except she'll be handmaking the Lambcake, nothing store bought-strictly by scratch. Pretty darn amazing that an 11 year old is willing to bring something to the Easter table, all by herself.
The Lamb cake.
AND, The butter mold Lamb.
What stands out in your mind when you look back on your childhood days? Whether recognizing Easter or Passover, what memories stand out the most from those days?
Welcome to Crustybeef~
I am willing to bet my brothers still will make a comment about the Lamb cake. At least now we're old enough to have a say in what piece we're served.
*the following picture was captured from the website http://www.coolest-birthday-cakes.com/*