Let me just say, that picture does not do them justice. Quenelle is a generic term for a mixture of creamed fish, chicken or meat, sometimes combined with breadcrumbs and lightly bound with egg. Essentially glorified dumplings, they are usually poached and were often used as a garnish in traditional French haute cuisine. Quenelle has also come to refer to the gently rounded shape, made by passing the mixture from one spoon to the next, until it resembles a tiny football. I'm not sure where I tasted my first quenelle de brochet, the pike mousseline version that is a classic of Lyonnaise cooking, but it remains one of my favorite treats. Rarely seen on menus at this point (and when they are, you'd better be at a reliably good French restaurant), you'd have to go to France to sample one—or man up and make them yourself. I envisioned them as the perfect replacement for the much-maligned and rejected gefilte fish—essentially a cold, butter-&-creamless version of the quenelle.
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When it comes to entertaining, I'm a bit of a control freak. (OK, even sometimes when I'm not entertaining.) I happen to like things just so. When I invite people over I want them to feel relaxed and indulged. To me, this means the proceedings should be well-conceived, flow comfortably and add up to a pleasant experience for all the senses. I like soft lighting, good tunes, incense or scented candles (subtle and spicy, nothing cloying), comfortable places to sit, beautiful flowers, excellent company and good food. I get as much done ahead of time as possible so I can kick back and have a lovely time along with my guests. This particular Eastover menu had me in the kitchen a little more than I like. And a number of people brought hors d'oeuvres, which resulted in lots of food I hadn't planned for, albeit all quite delicious. Let me tell you about it.
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Our annual combined celebration of Easter and Passover came and went in a frenzy of cooking and eating, as usual. I was in charge of the bulk of the menu this time but, as always, our 15 friends brought traditional treats and specialties that really pushed things over the top. I'm going to spread out the telling of this event over the week, posting a different recipe each day, or else it will be too overwhelming for both of us. As you can see from the photo, above, we gathered at Beaver Dam, the gorgeous upstate home of a very chic French gallerist I am lucky to call my bosom friend. Big dogwood branches, hyacinths and other spring blooms came from the city, as most plants are still dormant up here. The sun was shining, the air was cool and fresh, and we had a roaring fire going. Spirits were high as the advent of spring always brings a rush of renewed energy.

Raised between 2 religions and 2 cultures, I have retained some of both and all of neither. Dyeing Easter eggs is a tradition I hope never to relinquish. This year I will be heading to Turks & Caicos for a beachy holiday that will most likely obviate both Passover and Easter, but I may still find time to dye some eggs when I return home. And maybe even cook the meal we've begun calling Eastover, a funny hybrid that might start with a ham and finish with macaroons. Would it surprise you to know that for dyeing eggs I no longer use anything artificial? Yep, I'm going to try to get you to make your own dyes from natural ingredients! We have the ODG (Original Domestic Goddess) Martha Stewart to thank for these great instructions. I followed them last year and look at the gorgeous bowl of eggs I got out of it. I still have a big jar of beet juice in the fridge. I thought I was going to dye some piece of clothing but I never got around to it. Just like those geranium sachets I was going to make for Christmas presents. Maybe next year. Inshallah.
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