“To show your true colors you have to come out of your shell”
- Anonymous
Five, count them up, one, two, three, four and five. Not 10 or 24 but five. What? Am I getting too far ahead again? Then let me back up and start all over.
Ahem. Happy Easter everyone.
Yes, another holiday is upon us. It seems like we can't go a week without celebrating something or other.
On my holiday scale of favorites I'd have to rank Easter somewhere around four; only because I am not a huge fan of chocolate and I swear if anyone tries to pawn off a marshmallow Peep on me again this year there are going to be some serious consequences.
Honestly, does anyone even know how they make those creepy chicks in the first place? They taste like a sugary rubber tire covered in sand paper. Where's PETA when you need them?
Granted they might look cute in the box, but once you gnaw on one you realize why they only sell them once a year, because it takes you that long to forget how bad they are.
The one candy I really enjoy are jelly beans, but, not the spiced ones; I'm sure the people behind the Peeps came up with that brilliant idea as well. I'd love to meet the person who thought licorice was a flavor worth savoring.
Another thing I don't like about Easter is all the talk of “hippity hoppity down the bunny trail,” which is great for some, but let's say you don't know how to ski, then what? Then all you're left to do is decorate; which brings me to my original point. Why five? Well, just wait and see.
My culinary skills may not be all that extensive but I figured even I could heat up some water and then color some eggs, so technically this was not meant to be an overly exciting task. Yet leave it to me to find a way to turn even the most simplest of art and crafts projects into an act of devastation.
My plan was simple. I bought two dozen eggs and figured that by the end of the day I'd have a basket filled with so many pastel colors it would look like a rainbow pride parade on my dining room table.
So there I was, waiting for the water to boil; I had my little cups of vinegar and dyes and I was ready. That is, until I tried to put the eggs into the water. This is where something went wrong.
Do you know what happens to two dozen cold eggs that are quickly submerged into boiling water? They explode! Those delicate shells burst open like a hard hit pinata.
I was able to save five of them before detonation but what about the other 19? And then it came to me: colored scrambled eggs.
So this year, with egg on my face, Easter brunch is on me; literally.
Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here, each
Sunday, in The Citizen.
He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com
Five, count them up, one, two, three, four and five. Not 10 or 24 but five. What? Am I getting too far ahead again? Then let me back up and start all over.
Ahem. Happy Easter everyone.
Yes, another holiday is upon us. It seems like we can't go a week without celebrating something or other.
On my holiday scale of favorites I'd have to rank Easter somewhere around four; only because I am not a huge fan of chocolate and I swear if anyone tries to pawn off a marshmallow Peep on me again this year there are going to be some serious consequences.
Honestly, does anyone even know how they make those creepy chicks in the first place? They taste like a sugary rubber tire covered in sand paper. Where's PETA when you need them?
Granted they might look cute in the box, but once you gnaw on one you realize why they only sell them once a year, because it takes you that long to forget how bad they are.
The one candy I really enjoy are jelly beans, but, not the spiced ones; I'm sure the people behind the Peeps came up with that brilliant idea as well. I'd love to meet the person who thought licorice was a flavor worth savoring.
Another thing I don't like about Easter is all the talk of “hippity hoppity down the bunny trail,” which is great for some, but let's say you don't know how to ski, then what? Then all you're left to do is decorate; which brings me to my original point. Why five? Well, just wait and see.
My culinary skills may not be all that extensive but I figured even I could heat up some water and then color some eggs, so technically this was not meant to be an overly exciting task. Yet leave it to me to find a way to turn even the most simplest of art and crafts projects into an act of devastation.
My plan was simple. I bought two dozen eggs and figured that by the end of the day I'd have a basket filled with so many pastel colors it would look like a rainbow pride parade on my dining room table.
So there I was, waiting for the water to boil; I had my little cups of vinegar and dyes and I was ready. That is, until I tried to put the eggs into the water. This is where something went wrong.
Do you know what happens to two dozen cold eggs that are quickly submerged into boiling water? They explode! Those delicate shells burst open like a hard hit pinata.
I was able to save five of them before detonation but what about the other 19? And then it came to me: colored scrambled eggs.
So this year, with egg on my face, Easter brunch is on me; literally.
Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here, each
Sunday, in The Citizen.
He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com
The Citizens' Say
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