The Honorable Peter J. Cottontail

Office of Easter Bunny Services

Bunny Trail, Inc.

2120 Hippity Hoppity Lane

Rabbit Hole, Montana

April 9, 2012

 

Dear Mr. Cottontail,

   We have a problem.

    I hesitate to write this letter as I know you have, just yesterday, completed the “crunch time” of your year and all Easter bunnies must be back home and extremely tired. But then I thought to myself— what better time? Those rabbits have nothing to do for an entire year. And seriously, how tiring can it be hiding Easter eggs in bushes?

    That brings me to the reason for this correspondence. I have a complaint about the bunny you sent to my house this year. He needs a refresher course on how to hide eggs. That was one lazy rabbit. He has one job all year— take the eggs from the basket while the children are sleeping, and hide them throughout the yard before the children wake up. It’s not that hard.

    This year we woke up and the children’s Easter baskets were in the study as always. Both baskets had two new bathing suits in them as always. And both baskets had one wish-list item and a few pieces of candy. All was well in Easter-morningland at the St. John house— or so it appeared. On closer inspection, the eggs were stacked beside the basket just as we had left them the night before.

    Are you kidding me? He has one job function— sneak into people’s homes, take the eggs outside, hide the eggs and then leave. How hard can it be to forget the eggs? That is an Easter bunny’s sole responsibility. That’s it. Nothing more. Hide eggs. Sir, the bunny you sent to my home was one lazy, ineffective, careless, and uncaring rabbit.

    Have you guys suffered some type of budget cutback? Did the EEOC find that hiding eggs was hazardous for bunnies? Was the DEQ or EPA worried about Easter egg dye seeping in to the topsoil? Did the IRS clamp down on un-reported plastic egg income?

    What gives? Santa manages to get it right every year, and he delivers all over the world in one day. You guys just have to worry about the juvenile Gentile population of the United States. It’s not like you’re as busy as the Tooth Fairy Division.

    Now that’s a tough job. Those tooth fairies work year-round, and in the dark. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to sneak nasty, bloody little baby teeth from under pillows in exchange for money. And unlike Easter bunnies, tooth fairies have gotten better through the years. When I was a boy they left quarters and dimes. Now they leave five-dollar bills. The IRS doesn’t seem to require a 1099 form for unreported tooth income.

    But I digress.

    They just don’t make Easter bunnies like they used to. When I was a boy, the eggs were all hard-boiled and dyed. Somewhere around my early teens you people started using plastic eggs. I didn’t complain because they were usually filled with coins and the occasional dollar bill.

    Either way, service has dropped in this country, and I hate to say that the Easter bunny is leading the pack.

    Maybe our designated bunny was upset about the infamous Easter Scavenger Hunt of 2011. If so, I understand. I was as surprised as he. I thought my kids would be excited about a fun, carefully planned scavenger hunt, too. Wisely— and creatively— you spent hours writing clever rhymes that would serve as clues, and stuffed them inside Easter eggs. Each clue led the two children— at the time, 13 and nine-years old— to a golden egg filled with a substantial amount of money. Along the way you posted penalty clues that made them dance the robot in the front yard or yell things such as, “I love my sister!” before they could proceed. They hated it.

    I agree last year’s scavenger hunt fell flat. The teenager was moody and the boy was grumpy, and they were both half asleep. But to follow up with this behavior is shameful. I demand that the lazy rabbit responsible for this unacceptable behavior be reprimanded and never be allowed to hide Easter eggs at my house, ever again. He might as well just sleep in from now on.

    Thank you for your time.

Warmly,

Robert St. John

 

Asparagus Bread Pudding

 1 cup asparagus, cut into one-inch long pieces

1 Tbl Olive Oil

1/2 cup White Onion, diced

1/2 cup Red Pepper, diced

1 tsp Salt

1 tsp Black Pepper, freshly ground

1 /2 cup Riesling Wine

 12 Tbl Fresh Basil, chopped

1 tsp Dry Mustard

1 cup Sour Cream

1 cup Half and Half

1 /2 cup Whole Milk

4 Egg Yolks

2 Eggs

6 cups French bread, crust removed and small diced

 

Preheat oven to 325.

 

Place three cups of water into a small saucepot and bring to a boil. Place the asparagus pieces in the boiling water and cook for 45 seconds Strain the asparagus and run it under cold water until cooled completely. Drain and dry the asparagus pieces and set aside.

 

In a medium-sized sauté pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Sauté the onions and peppers for two-three minutes. Add the cooked asparagus, salt and pepper and cook for one more minute. Add the wine and allow it to reduce by half. Remove this mixture from the heat and set aside.

 

In a large mixing bowl, combine the basil, dry mustard, sour cream, half and half, milk and eggs. Blend them together and fold in the cooked vegetables and French bread. Cover and allow the mixture to set for one hour before baking.

 

Place the pudding mixture into a lightly buttered 2 quart Pyrex baking dish. Cover the pudding with a piece of parchment paper, and cover the parchment paper with a piece of aluminum foil. Bake for 35 minutes covered. Remove the foil and paper and cook for an additional 10 minutes.

Allow pudding to rest for 10 minutes before serving.

 

Yields: 8-10 servings