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Untitled Document
Have you ever had a totally perfect experience?
Whether an elaborate occasion, or spontaneous get-together with friends, a
day of unexpected discoveries on vacation, or a simple walk in a beautiful
snowfall, it’s a time when all of the components fall together and
are absolutely right. Those kinds of experiences are rare treasures,
remembered forever.
We had an Easter like that once.
I can’t take any credit. Our perfect Easter was
the idea of my husband, Peter, and his effort made it happen. Peter has
always had a wonderful penchant for surprise celebrations. The first year
we were married, he had a surprise party for my birthday. For a week he got
up in the middle of the night and cooked, storing things in our
neighbor’s fridge. He made everything except the cake, which he
persuaded my grandmother to bake and send on a bus. By party time he was so
exhausted that he fell asleep after drinking one glass of punch. Our
friends and I sadly put him to bed and ate without him. He planned
elaborate treasure hunts and junior detective adventures for our
children’s birthdays. One year for our anniversary Peter decorated
the kids’ treehouse with flowers and miniature white lights,
constructing a pulley system for the kids to deliver the food. He gave me two surprise 40th-birthday
parties — both when I was still in my midthirties!
Peter let me in on his Easter surprise a bit, but only
because I’d been planning brunch myself. The only thing I knew was
that it was to take place in the woods across the road.
One of the best things about where we live is that
forest. Our old farmhouse has two-and-a-half mostly wooded acres, but
whenever we take a walk across the road we’re reminded that people
travel to get to such places. In minutes we can be away from the sights and
sounds of civilization.
On Easter eve, the kids spent the night at my folks,
and Peter asked me to stay inside and read. I didn’t peek, but I was
aware that he was making trip after trip with our garden cart.
Easter morning, he disappeared at dawn. I busied
myself hiding dyed eggs and baskets until my folks and children came from
church. The older kids had gotten a bit old for the Easter Bunny thing, so
it wasn’t quite the marathon it’d been in earlier years. Soon
Peter called to us from the woods’ edge.
Ten minutes later, we were there. Peter had done lots
of planning and preparation, but Mother Nature had been an awesome
assistant. The woods are spectacular in their fall glory, coolly green in
summer, and starkly beautiful in winter, but on spring days such as that
Easter they’re magical. The ground was carpeted in white wildflowers
and May apples. Here and there dark-red trilliums and purple-blue wild
delphiniums reared their heads, and tiny yellow violets hid shyly under
their more assertive neighbors. The pale infant leaves overhead had just
begun to unfurl, dappling the sunlight that shone through them. A soft,
warm breeze carried the sounds of birdcalls, the rat-a-tat-tat of a faraway
woodpecker, and the rushing water of the nearby creek.
Peter had found a perfect spot in a small glade with
gentle slopes. A long table, covered with a cloth, held vases of
wildflowers. There was fresh orange juice for the kids, mimosas for the
adults. The smoke from a small campfire curled upward, carrying with it the
scent of the fresh coffee steaming on the grate and bacon frying in an iron
skillet. The menu was classic camping fare: scrambled eggs, bacon, potatoes
fried with peppers and onions, and bread toasted over the fire on sticks.
No one wanted to leave after we’d eaten. The
kids picked more wildflowers, splashed in the creek, and made occasional
forays back to the house for Easter candy. Hours later, things began to
break up when my grandmother glanced at her watch and realized that
she’d better get home if we were to have dinner.
We vowed to repeat the experience each Easter, but the
next year it rained and the year after it was too cold. Three years later
my grandparents were unable to manage the hike. Perhaps it was for the best:
Seems as if perfect experiences can never be reproduced. Still, every
Easter, someone will always say: “Remember when we did that thing in
the woods? We have to
do that again sometime.”
Thanks, Peter.
Contact Julianne at [email protected].
Easter brunch had been an occasion to experiment with
new recipes until I served these garlic cheese grits with shrimp. Shrimp
with grits is an old Southern favorite, but I’d always found versions
in Southern restaurants and recipes a bit bland and so I developed this
recipe. Ever since, it’s been on our Easter brunch menu by popular
demand.
Garlic Cheese Grits with Shrimp
For the Shrimp
1 pound shelled and deveined shrimp, shells reserved
2 cups chicken stock or water
4 ounces diced slab or thick-cut bacon
1 teaspoon minced garlic (or to taste)
1/2 cup chilli sauce* (preferred) or catsup
Worchestershire sauce, optional
Thinly sliced scallions and chopped flat-leaf parsley
for garnish
*Note: This chilli sauce is the condiment that’s
like a chunky ketchup, not a Mexican/Hispanic sauce.
For the Garlic Cheese Grits
1 cup coarse-ground grits
3 cups whole milk (or use the proportion of liquid
to grits
indicated on the package)
1 teaspoon minced garlic, or to taste
1 tablespoon butter
8 ounces grated extra-sharp Cheddar cheese
Salt to taste
For the shrimp: Combine the shrimp shells and stock or
water in a large saucepan. If you are using water, add the aromatics
(onion, carrot, celery, bay leaf, garlic, etc.) as for stock. Bring pot to
a very low simmer. Cook for about one hour. Strain the liquid into a bowl.
Sauté the bacon until crisp, then drain
it on paper towels and reserve the fat.
In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of the reserved
bacon fat over moderately high heat. Add the shrimp and sauté until
it’s just cooked through. Transfer the shrimp to a plate; cover and
keep it warm. Add a little more bacon fat to the skillet if necessary, then
add the garlic and sauté until the garlic is softened. Turn the heat
to high and add the stock and chilli sauce. Cook over high heat until the
mixture is reduced to a syrupy consistency. Add Worcestershire if desired.
Return the shrimp to the pan and cook it just until heated through. Serve
over garlic cheese grits garnished with the reserved bacon, minced
scallions, and parsley,
For the grits: In a large pan (preferably nonstick),
sauté the garlic in butter until it is softened. Add milk and bring
the mixture to a boil. Whisk in the grits and cook for 10 to 15 minutes (or
longer, if you are using coarsely ground grits), stirring constantly. Add
cheese, a handful at a time, stirring between handfuls. Serve immediately.
Serves four to six.
Tips on advance preparation: The shrimp stock can be made as much as a day ahead. Refrigerate
it — and the shrimp — if you are waiting longer than 1 hour to
use it. The sauce for the shrimp can also be made ahead and should also be
refrigerated if it is not being used right away. Refrigerate the cooked
shrimp and bacon separately. The bacon should be allowed to come to room
temperature before it is used. The grits do need to be made at the last
minute, but if the cheese has been grated and the garlic minced ahead of
time, the total prep time should only be 20 to 25 minutes.
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