– Words by Ellie Shortt Photography by Lia Crowe
Fragility. Fertility. New life. New beginnings. Springtime. Sustenance. What comes to mind when you picture an egg? What kind of egg do you picture? Is it still in its shell or cracked open? Raw or cooked?
I think of my childhood. I recall comforting meals of omelettes with side salads or scrambled eggs on toast—more often finding their way into our dinner rotation than breakfast routine. I see the Passover Seder spread and feel my teeth sink into that satisfying first bite of a hardboiled egg after waiting so eagerly for those precious first courses. I’m transported to the kitchen table of my friend’s house, making pysanka—carefully poking a hole in the bottom of the shell, getting sore cheeks while blowing out the innards and meticulously dotting with wax, dipping into dye, wiping it down and repeating with patience and pride as I complete my delicate masterpiece. I hear the catchy jingle of those energetic “Get Cracking” commercials of the ‘80s.
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