Pioneer Easter Eggs

This is a post I prepared for the blog Backyard Farming a couple of years ago.

Try this all-natural way to color Easter eggs, using onion skins. I learned it from my mother, who learned it from her mother, who undoubtedly learned it from her mother, too.

The best part of this method, and what I remember most from growing up, is that it was almost like two Easter egg hunts in one. Before we even started coloring the eggs, mom sent us a-hunting outside for blossoms, fresh grass blades, buds and the like to create patterns on the eggs. Even if we didn’t find something new and green, we always enjoyed the search. Ah, spring.

Here’s how to color your own eggs:

• Gather the outer onion skins, as many as you can! The more you have, the greater color saturation. You’ll need to wrap them around each egg several times over.

Remove skins in as big a piece as possible. Save them in the fridge for the weeks leading up to Easter. Or, if you’re like me and the holiday sneaks up on you, dig in the grocery bins to buy lots of loose skins when you purchase onions. Yellow ones produce a golden brown color, with red and purple onion skins imparting a bit more of their respective hues. It’s best to keep one variety per boiling pot so colors don’t get muddy.

• If you’ve collected vegetative material, place the pieces right next to your raw egg in desired pattern, then wrap onion skins around egg. Try moistening leaves, etc., to get them to stick to the egg first.

If you don’t make it outside, raid your crisper for celery leaves, carrot tops, herbs or more – use your imagination. (Don’t use anything that may be toxic -- check the Internet if in doubt.) Leaves and such make a silhouette effect. Pansies (which are edible and therefore safe) sometimes transfer some of their color to the egg -- cool! Onion skins alone, however, still make beautiful eggs with wonderfully layered color.

• After wrapping raw eggs with skins and more skins, secure tightly with rubber bands (easiest) or string. Or tuck egg inside a piece of clean nylon stocking. You really will get more color depth and interest the more skins you use, so break loose!

• Hard-boil using cold-water method: Place wrapped eggs in pot, covering with an inch or more of cold water. Bring quickly to a boil, then set aside covered pot for 22-24 minutes (add about 5 minutes for high altitude). Cool immediately under running cold water. (My mom says the dyed hot water can stain a porcelain sink, so carefully pour it down the drain to avoid having to scrub later.)

• Remove onion skins from eggs and admire your handiwork. Don’t forget that it’s nature handiwork, too.

• If desired, polish dry eggs with a little vegetable oil. Refrigerate eggs until needed. I've yet to have one that tasted like an onion!

Too many cooks

Ever since reading of it in a magazine, I've taken pictures of my children helping me cook some of our family's favorite recipes, with the idea of giving them illustrated cookbooks when they grow older.

Today's subject: Fresh pumpkin pie

Today's helper: Elise

"Baker in training," says her apron.

Yes, we're still working on the training part.

Today's morals: Elise's feelings matter most. Grabbing the camera is a great calming device. "We'll laugh about this before you know it," I said. Amazingly, the bowl landed on its bottom! And we had it all cleaned up in time for Jeff to come home from work, only to be sent right back out the door to buy a pie for the ward party tonight.



Pumpkin pie (or winter squash)

1 1/4 cup fresh pumpkin or winter squash (butternut, banana, etc.) cooked and pureed
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon flour
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup evaporated milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
Pastry for 1 9-inch unbaked pie crust.

Combine pumpkin, sugar, salt, spices and flour in mixing bowl. Add eggs and mix well. Add evaporated milk, water and vanilla; mix well. Pour into pastry lined pan. Bake in preheated 425 oven for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 and bake 45 minutes longer or until set.

Daddy's homework

Samuel came huffing and puffing into the room, carrying Jeff's scriptures. "Daddy's homework," Samuel repeatedly pronounced.

Children learn by example, we all know. I'm glad my 2-year-old has such a good one.

Harbingers

It's time for the traditional winter/spring tug-of-war around here. Buzzing bees one day, snowstorms the next.

One deliciously warm afternoon last week I ventured into the backyard to take stock of the landscape. Every time I turned my head I spied another bouncy ball, discovered another missing sandal. Ha! Take away the snow, and winter's not such a tough hostage taker anymore.

But the ease with which I uncovered more and more defeatist playthings made me realize something else. In particular, I had looked for one of Samuel's shoes -- half of his absolutely favorite pair -- for several weeks before snow fell. The shoe had fallen off our busy toddler somewhere in our jungle of a backyard. I didn't stand a chance.

Months later, when I'd nearly forgotten about it, I did find that pesky shoe -- on my way to the garden last week to plant spinach seeds. Some would say it's because the snow melted, but I know that winter's way of stripping excess foliage was the true catalyst.

So what? Thanks to harsh elements and Samuel's growing feet, that shoe is of little use to me now. Yet the finding of it formed a great object lesson of a recurring truth in my life. Sometimes we lose sight of things when life is lush, requiring a season of starkness to help us find our treasures again.

****

I was delighted to find a ladybug Thursday while doing yardwork. (Don't worry. As I told my friend who drove by and called out, "You're putting us all to shame!" --  this particular yard chore of pulling out dead flowers should have been done last fall.)

Anyway, I was super excited about my find and ushered James over to play with the cute little red bug. Isn't a ladybug a sure sign of spring?

Well, within an hour it started to thunder and hail. Thunder and hail! The sky became an angry gray with wispy finger-pointing clouds. The only softening the sky did later into the evening was to sprinkle snow instead of spitting sleet. Sign of spring? So much for that theory.

Oddly enough, I recalled that the last time I saw a ladybug, winter's hold was even greater. It was January. The earthquake had just ransacked Haiti. My friend Circe had organized the neighbors to make hygiene kits to send to that country. As we finished I saw a lone ladybug skitter across her table.

It did my heart good.

I think now I'll always associate a ladybug with hope, the more unexpected the better.