“A giant rodent who sneaks into people’s homes at night to leave eggs filled with candy? How in the world is that symbolic of the Easter celebration?”
― Autumn Doughton, Chasing Polaris
Easter is not really much of a celebration in our household. I say ours meaning mine and my parents. Mum and Dad go galavanting off to France as they do every year with about fifty other people. They say it is to visit “Lourdes”, a town in the south-west of France. NOT a cricket ground in St Johns Wood, London. Which I seem to have to explain to people. Seriously, have you ever seen Filipinos play cricket?
Now, just as I wrote that statement I just had to throw “Filipino cricket” into Google. And would you believe it but The Philippines does have an international cricket team. Well, you learn something every day.
I digress, mum and dad are in Lourdes. They have been going there for over 20 years, always with 50 other people with them. Always over Easter. So no easter egg hunts in the house. Or, on a more personal point of view, any chance of making use of the Easter break to take a holiday. Since someone has to look after the cat.
When we were kids though, me and my sister’s Easter was filled with painting boiled eggs on Good Friday, or the Saturday before Easter Sunday. Then mum would hide the eggs throughout the house and my sister and I would go look for them.
She’d never hide them in our garden though. Back then it was a cesspit of barrels of oil, and plastic containers of oil, and other stuff. Mostly oil, or oil covered. Dad’s hobby was fixing cars since he was the “youngest chief mechanic in Phillipine Rabit (sic) bus line”.
Now our garden is more…
Which would have been perfect for Easter egg hunts. Once we found them all we would be rewarded with chocolate eggs filled with candy. And I’m pretty sure those boiled eggs got turned into potato salad. Complete with paint that bled through the cracks of the egg shells.
Alas, these days it’s not to be (not surprising, I’m pretty sure my mum would have better things to do then hide easter eggs for a sub 40-year-old). The hope is that my niece and nephew would be having Easter egg hunts in that palace of a house they live in. I wonder if sis lets them paint eggs. She should do. I hope she does…
Or do kids not do that these days?
Really am digressing now.
Anyway, here’s the rub. Because of this, we don’t really get to do a whole easter lunch thing with roast lamb, or chicken, or ham (is ham an option?).
So I decided that I wanted to roast something while everyone is out.
Thanks, Jackie, but no.
I decided to go down that most traditional of roasts for Easter.
And Crispy Belly Pork.
Now the Belly Pork was a test run made with strips of crispy belly pork.
The real thing is sitting in the fridge, with a spice rub on the skin. Waiting to be slowly roasted tomorrow.
Can’t wait… Happy Easter