Here we have the eggs basking in their individual dye cups. Clockwise, from the bile-colored confection at the bottom (which is actually turmeric with a splish of vinegar): red cabbage, red cabbage with a dash of turmeric, beet juice jazzed up with a tidge of pomegranate, more turmeric, and cherry juice. In the center we have a cup of leprechaun vomit I've been saving since St. Patrick's Day.
Okay, I threw that out weeks ago. It's actually spinach, parsley, a dash of rice wine vinegar, and a cube of wheatgrass juice.
I let them stew in said juices for a few hours, and when I felt those eggs had had enough waterboarding, I pulled them out to dry. Here's the end result:
The blue (red cabbage), yellow (turmeric) and green one on the left (red cabbage with turmeric) turned out best. The grayish one at the top right still has a fleck of parsley on it. Pre-seasoned! And the two scabtastic ones at the lower right, with the lovely scratched-up poo effect, were pulled from their brines of beet, cherry, and pomegranate. I would call these two eggs the opposite of success.
Another view. Do you see how the brownish one in the center-bottom has tiny bubbles on it? Like it has some sort of rash?
Being the food martyr in training that I am, I ate the scuffed stool sample replica on the lower left immediately, so I wouldn't scare J away from the entire batch.Other happenings: my favorite restaurants in the area, Water City Grill and Fusion, are closing. I guess I'll just have to learn to love buttered prime rib, iceberg lettuce drowning in ranch dressing, and heart disease. Farewell, purveyers of delicious foods: I shall never find another cheesy artichoke dip or roasted veggie lasagna like the ones you delivered to my belly time after time.
Also, our street is being prepped for construction this summer. (Yay! Noise and stink and pollution and parking twenty miles away after grocery shopping! Can't wait!) As a special treat, the Utility People dug up my front flower bed to accost our gas meter and killed a rose bush that was finally showing some promise after limping along for two summers. Thank you, power company!
I love how they put a festive orange dunce cap on the grave they dug in my flower bed. If I had a child who was naughty (let's name him Charlie), I might be tempted to tell him that this is where Daddy and I will bury the Easter Bunny if Charlie continued to throw tantrums in Home Depot and/or fail to eat all of his vegetables. I don't know why the photo is sideways...blogger, you are a wonky one, aren't you?
As my dear Mom used to say around this time of year, "Hoppy Easter" everyone. May all your bunnies be chocolate, may your deviled eggs be heavenly, and may the wind at your back be devoid of scent.
PS: If you want, you can read more of my blather over at My Book, the Movie.