Ham or lamb, lamb or ham, the eternal question for the Easter cook.
Lamb, traditionally, because the new spring lambs are out and about and, not so important to me, because lamb represented the “Lamb of God,” Christ.
Ham, because at least in the past the hogs of fall had been successfully cured and were now ready for cooking. Also because hogs were thought to represent luck.
We feel lucky to eat our ham, smeared with a paste of a third mustard, a third marmalade and a third brown sugar. Stuck with a few cloves and a few dried apricots. Irresistable.
No eggs this year, though Maud is pining for them. Gil is underwhelmed, he says.
The patio of the cabin is soaking in sunshine as we drowse and wait for dinner.
Happy rebirth.
