The Torture of Making Easter Bread….er, I mean Joy!

Easter bread, a sorta’ sweet, anise and lemon flavored almost cake-like bread (due to the dozen eggs you use to make six loaves of it) is not a particularly Italian thing, but it is a huge thing in my Italian family. And while all of us in my family have made the bread at some point in their lives, only a few of us do it every. single. year. We’re the crazy ones.

It started with my gramma.

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I know. It’s been awhile. But you have heard about the winter we had?

I’ve sort of been hunkered down, trying to survive Wisconsin’s horrible winter. My heavens it was terrible. For like a month, there was a foot of ice with ruts in the alley where I parked the jeep. A FOOT of ICE. It was unbelievable. I mean, I spent eight years in Cleveland and I don’t recollect anything this miserable. There were a few weeks where I had to carry my dog to a pee spot, put her down, let her pee, pick her up, carry her to number 2 spot, put her down, let her do her business, then pick her up and rush her back in the house before she shivered herself into shreds. Brutal. And don’t even get me started on the heating bills.

But I digress.

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