Easter morning when we were kids felt a bit like Christmas: There were overflowing Easter baskets hidden around the house to find, giant chocolate bunnies to bite the ears off of and slowly gnaw on for the following week, colourful Easter eggs to eat, family coming into town to celebrate, a delicious dinner of roasted ham, fresh homebaked bread – a whole table full of food – followed by an elaborate cake baked by my mom. Around us, the house would be decorated with Easter colours, ceramic eggs, vintage bunnies.
I haven’t been home to New York for Easter since I moved to London eight years ago. All of that is a distant memory. Some years in London, the day just passed like an ordinary day with a phone call from across the ocean. In 2012, I went egg rolling on Parliament Hill followed by a Sunday roast in the cosy Garden Gate pub in Hampstead. 2013 was a Sunday roast near the fireplace at the Builders Arms in Chelsea. Last year, Jorge and I enjoyed a Sunday lunch near the front window in Bumpkin, watching torrential rain pour down all afternoon.
This year, we decided to keep up the Sunday roast tradition and head back to Bumpkin once again. It was warm enough to sit outdoors in the covered garden, the same place we had our wedding reception last June, a place I’ve eaten probably more times than anywhere else in London. So much so that we were greeted with a lovely glass of kir royale with a big juicy blackberry perched on the rim.
We went for the set menu they were serving for Easter: a starter, main and dessert each. We shared both: a prawn cocktail and a meat board with these delicious rosemary and sea salt flat bread slices.
For mains, we both chose a roast. I went for chicken with garlic bread sauce and Jorge chose the roasted pork belly with apple sauce. Both were delicious, as usual. As you’d imagine, half of this was boxed up for me to eat for lunch today – so big!
And while the dessert menu is always tempting, we were so full we went for something light – tangy orange sorbet with a marshmallow on top. Yum!
They also had a special Easter weekend cocktail on their menu that I couldn’t resist, so I finished of with something that tasted like a completely liquid, very alcoholic Cadbury egg.
And then, like the eggs down Parliament hill, we pretty much rolled the 10 second walk home.