I thought about making an extravagant Easter brunch this year. I spent a few hours tossing the idea around in my head, planning the menu, envisioning the tablescape, designing adorable little place cards for each guest. I was thinking of going with a decadent Eggs Benedict. A fresh, spring salad on the side, maybe mixed greens with radishes and peas and some kind of lemony vinaigrette. Homemade croissants, obviously. Three kinds of jam. Some surprising, yet sophisticated and understated cocktail. The way Easter brunch should be done.
And then I remembered that we’re two weeks away from our move date. And that I’ve already packed up all of our dishes (not to mention any and all serving platters, flatware, and Easter decorations). And that I have two kids under the age of five who definitely wouldn’t appreciate a good Eggs Benedict and would instead ask for scrambled eggs and guacamole with a side of Goldfish crackers, thankyouverymuch.
Easter is an incredibly special day in our house. So even if my Martha Stewart-inspired brunch wasn’t meant to be, I still wanted to do something special for breakfast. I was scrolling through my Instagram feed when I saw a picture of this show-stopping Easter bread. Clearly, it was fate. Or an incredibly well-curated IG feed.
You don’t need me to tell you how to make pudding. You might need me to tell you how to make French macarons, and tell you that tights are not pants, no matter how functional and/or comfortable they may be as leg coverings. Pudding, though…you’ve undoubtedly got that one covered.
Maybe I just need to remind myself how to make pudding. Or to remind myself to actually make pudding.
And then I thought, if I need a reminder to make pudding, maybe you also need a reminder to make pudding. Because with so many amazing dessert recipes out there to try, who says “maybe I should just make pudding?”
So let’s make pudding.
And I’m not talking about Jell-O Instant Pudding, which, yes, is delicious in its own right. I’m talking about real, homemade pudding. With sugar and milk and chocolate. The kind of pudding that your grandmother used to make for your mother. The kind of pudding that makes you wait three hours for it to set. The kind of pudding that reminds you of evenings around the family dinner table and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and catching fireflies at dusk.
We’re in blizzard territory, guys. Like, for real.
In fact, we’re apparently on the brink of one of the worst blizzards in NYC history. Word on the street.
All of my friends and family who are fortunate enough to live in places where snow is nothing more than a dirty word have checked in to make sure we’ve stocked up on milk, bread, water, batteries, and flashlights.
And all of my New Yorker friends are like “but did you get all of the wine?”
So instead of standing on line (side note: New Yorkers say “on line” instead of “in line.” I’m still getting used to this. The Midwesterner in me just can’t wrap her head around it.) for hours at Union Market to buy a gallon of $9 organic, locally-sourced milk, I think I’ll just bake some cupcakes.
More specifically, these ridiculously gorgeous (not to mention ahh-mazingly delicious) red velvet cupcakes. Because what goes better with wine than cupcakes?