Easter is, besides Christmas Eve, the only time of the year where I think I can relax from my responsibilities, without a phone in hand. I don’t cook anything then.
Although I like it a lot, my wife prepares the holidays much better, and her last cheesecake was so “sweeping” you could eat it off the floor.
Easter stands for a pot of sour soup. Christmas is also always white sausage and horseradish. Plus my mother’s classic vegetable salad, homemade cake and looking for little gifts from the hare under the boxwood tree.
Christmas at the restaurant is an urban farm in the back room, or growing cress from mid-March. The shelves in the kitchen are draped with sheets of cotton wool and seeded seeds of the green delicacy.
At Osteria Fino in Gdynia, we have introduced horseradish soup with beef tongue to the menu for this special time, and of course, fresh-cut cress.
Merry!
J.K.
