Are Exploding Eggs Edible?

There are few holidays as important in my husband's life as Easter.  It is one of the VIP holidays because it means Borscht, specifically his Grandmother's White Borscht.

Now, when we first started dating, I was about as familiar with White Borscht as I was with life forms on Mars.  I thought Borscht was a deep reddy plum color and made from beets.  I was wrong.  While that is a form of said soup, this is completely different.

While the finer points of making the most prized delicacy in my hubtastic's palate elude me, I can say it is an acquired taste. <3

My contributions to my grandmother-in-law's Easter festivities are sporadic at best, I wanted to really participate this year. Now, make no mistake, I had no intention of trying to mess with perfection and left the heavy lifting to my GIL. I did however want to stretch my comfort zone in the kitchen and try something completely new.

That's when I discovered French Macarons. I have since become OBSESSED with the tasty morsels and have even made a picture of them my screensaver. I'm that crazy!

As for the macarons, that wasn't going to happen.  Even with the best of intentions, I simply cannot create more hours in the day.  That being said, I decided to try making Italian Easter Bread, my hubtastic is Italian and it is a self proclaimed Easter treat.  How hard could it be?

I can honestly say, I have never made bread from scratch before, I have been frightened by the concept of letting yeast rise and whatnot.  Gotta say, it isn't that hard per se, it is just INCREDIBLY time consuming.  Also, when you have a house filled with 6 month old twins and a 5 year old rambunctious boy...time consuming might not be the best idea when it comes to baking.  Just saying.

Remember when I said I have visions of myself being a perfect vision of motherhood? Picture a hybrid of Donna Reed/June Cleaver/Martha Stewart, yep, that's most definitely NOT me.  I got distracted during the last step of the bread.  THE LAST STEP!!!! I kneaded the dough, I let it rise, I punched it down, lil dude punched it down :), I rolled it into 1 inch tubes and "braided" it, I boiled eggs and even dyed them to put in the middle, I let it rise again. Then came the baking, it was supposed to be 20 minutes...that's it.  20 minutes.  Well, I decided to start folding one of the endless piles of laundry while I waited and 20 minutes became 40.  I ran frantically into the kitchen and opened the oven door and there was my fail moment.  One of said eggs had exploded in my oven and the rest of the loves, while pretty, were dried out messes to say the least.

This is the story of my life...and also what makes it so great.  Maybe next time.  Until then, I will keep trying new things in the kitchen and not succeeding roughly 50% of the time (conservatively).  That's where you come in, I shall share my fail moments with you for your entertainment and my own catharsis.  I like to think of our dynamic as a give and take.

Catch you on the flip side,

J