Originally they were called Goldenrod Eggs, but my aunt, as a little girl, misunderstood and her version stuck. Because it’s more awesome.
Last week we had a special night in my mom’s name. I can’t really say a funeral, and it didn’t feel like a memorial either, and it was just as much a chance for those who’ve worked so hard on her house to get together and relax as it was a chance to remember her. So I don’t know what to call it, really.
Let me back up a bit. Mom’s house is pretty much done. Wanna see before and afters? Of course you do!
The spare room:
You can see the whole set here.
And so we’re done.
I invited those friends (including my aunt) over for dinner last week during Dias de los Muertos. Er. Two weeks ago? This post has been in draft form for a looong time. Anyway, they came for a dinner in honor of my mother, and in honor of all the work we have done together.
Because Dia de los Muertos (and Samhain) is about family and ancestors, I chose to serve an old family recipe. I also chose to serve it because I rarely cook for people willing to eat it. For some reason, the people I’ve lived with since moving out of my mom’s home when I was 20 have not been big fans of eggs. This is sad for me, but I usually feast on Golden Rotten Eggs every year after Ostara since even kids who won’t eat them must dye hard boiled eggs. After-Ostara is one of the happiest food times of the year for me.
Golden Rotten Eggs, How To Make Them:
1. Make a white sauce. I’ll let you Google this because the fact of the matter is that I have a head cold and it’s simple enough to make, but complex enough that I don’t feel like trying to explain it. I will, however, say that I recommend actually measuring things out b/c I tried eyeballing the milk and made it too thin (I will never ever ever learn to follow my own advice. Never). Gluten-free people: Just sub your usual GF mix, it works just as well in my experience. In fact, I made the entire white sauce using all substituted ingredients since I can’t have the butter or cow milk.
2. Cut the hard boiled eggs, setting the yolks aside and chopping the whites up.
3. Mix the whites in the white sauce.
4. Pour the white sauce mixture over toast. You can dry-grill toast on the stove if your toaster oven gets broken and then stolen like mine did.
5. This is the fun bit: Put the hard boiled yolks in a strainer and mash them through onto the top of the rest of it. This part, apparently, looks like the goldenrod flower, but I never even knew this until I was 28 so it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the food. In any case, the food definitely does not resemble the Golden Rotten. I guess, unless you don’t like eggs, like all those people I live with.
We set up an altar for our passed-away loved ones, and after dinner we sat around and talked. We talked about my mom, what to do with her ashes (sand art, perhaps?) (it’s a joke. mostly), other family members we’d lost, and sexy big bird costumes (naturally). At the end of the evening, my aunt asked if it had brought the closure I was seeking. And while she quickly retracted it, knowing it may be too early to know, I’m glad she asked because, funny enough, it did. Even though it wasn’t a true funeral, and wasn’t focused solely on my mother and her memory, it really did click something in my brain or heart that changed things, subtly but truly. The emotional work isn’t over, but since that night I’ve been working with a simpler, more pure form of grief than I had previously.
After everyone left, I neatly piled all the dishes in the sink to wait until the morning, and I climbed into bed, emotionally spent and happy. With loads of leftovers to feel me all week long.