May Day Baskets

We moved to Des Moines last spring in March. A few weeks later, on May 1, the doorbell rang. I was by the door and opened it right away. Outside was a kid running away, and a paper basket on our deck filled with candy. The kids mom was there and said, "Happy May Day!" I was puzzled. "What's this?" She had to explain to me the tradition of May Day baskets, which I'd never heard of before. She said people leave little baskets of candy for friends and neighbors. They ring the bell, and they're supposed to run away so you don't catch them. I later read that the old tradition used to include flowers. Here, it seems to involve mostly popcorn, plus a little candy.

This year, I decided we'd take part in this new-for-us tradition. I was telling Oliver all about it this morning when our doorbell rang. He looked so excited. I tried to calm him down, "It might not be a basket!" But not to worry. It was! His friend left a cup of goodies on our doorstep.

Oliver really liked the idea of trying to run away so people don't catch you leaving goodies at their door. He told me it would be smarter to hide than run, though. We got to work on our baskets, and then we saw our neighbor walking up our driveway. "Uh oh," I told Oliver. "I think Eli is coming to give us a basket!" Oliver ran to the door and flung it open and teased his friend with glee, "I caught you!" Haha. More goodies! The kids were thrilled to find juice boxes inside.

We got to work on our baskets. Oliver wrote math problems on one and drew a monkey on another. Jo requested I draw a fox on hers. I made one into a basket weave, but that was too hard for the kids. Then we walked over to the convenience store to pick out treats. I saw some dog treats, too, and decided to get them for the neighborhood dogs. Here are our baskets!

The kids were thrilled to deliver the baskets. Oliver would ring the bell and run! Jo would laugh and squeal as she tried to run away, too. Our neighbor who we caught delivering baskets to our house caught us delivering to their house! Uh-oh ;-) When we got home, Jo realized we no longer had the baskets. Her little heart broke, and she cried and cried. I had to talk to her about how those were presents we gave out, but to remember her friends gave her some gift baskets, too.

Next year, maybe we'll plan a bit ahead and make some cookies or something for the neighbors, but our first year participating in May Day was easy & fun!

Lamb Cake: It's a Tradition, I Swear

The following blog entry is a somewhat winded story about the tradition of the lamb cake. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then I guess you've never been to Chicago during Easter. You're not missing much, but it's got people sentimental all the same.

I mention her frequently in my posts, but I need to start this one by saying that my Grandma Jo was such an important person in my life. She loved holidays, and she made them special for me and my siblings. Every Easter season, she would dye eggs herself. We'd go to her house, where she lived alone, and there would be a crystal basket of dyed eggs waiting for her to enjoy. She did it because she liked it.

On Easter morning, we'd wake up and find our baskets from the Easter bunny. After enjoying our goodies, we'd get dressed and head over to Grandma's. She'd be waiting there, wearing her Easter Bunny ears, and take us out to the courtyard of her condo to hunt the eggs she'd hidden. Afterwards, we'd go in to eat, and the meal was always followed up with a lamb cake.

Her lamb cakes always came from Jewell. They were made of pound cake and stood up. The head was made of plastic, and the whole thing was frosted and covered in coconut. The cake lay in a bed of plastic, green Easter grass. It was tacky, and I didn't like coconut, but it was tradition.

When we moved to Colorado from Chicago, we were disappointed to discover that no grocery store or bakery (that we found) sold a lamb cake. We were older and no longer enjoyed egg hunts, and so Easter tradition slowly fizzled.

This year, I started to think of the lamb cake, and I thought it would be nice to make one for my mom. I looked up a recipe and did a search online for a lamb cake mold. Before making any purchases, I decided not to make the cake. I reminded myself that I don't like coconut, and it'd be a lot of work. I wasn't sure if my mom would appreciate it all that much anyway.

I spent the morning at my parents' house. Grandma Jo came up in conversation, and I thought to mention the lamb cake. My mom got excited about it and told me how much it reminded her of her own grandma (Grandma Jo's mother, my Oma). I laughed and told her how it reminded me of Grandma Jo. She explained that Oma bought one every year. I learned later (from my Aunt Jackie) that Oma purchased it from Weiden's Bakery in Chicago. Grandma Jo always bought hers from Jewell-Osco. My mom told me the lamb cakes didn't always have plastic heads as I'd remembered, and part of the fun was cutting off the head. I laughed and told her the fondness for me was how tacky the cake was, and I loved the plastic head. We then reminisced a bit. She remembered black jelly beans for eyes, but I insisted the ones we had when I was little never had jelly bean eyes (which makes sense since the head was plastic). We both remembered the coconut and Easter grass.

Before long, we talked each other into baking a lamb cake. We drove to Hobby Lobby, World Market, and Michael's. There were no lamb cake molds for sale. I called my mother-in-law who recommended a cake shop in Englewood, and so we set out. We arrived and inquired about a lamb cake pan. Success! They had four. One lady asked us if we'd called earlier. We had not, so I assume someone else was on the hunt. My mom and I bought our pan and some cake trays, and then we headed out to the store for supplies. Unfortunately, all the Easter grass was sold out, but we felt confident we bought all the remaining essentials.

When it came time to extract the baked pound cake from the mold, my dad wandered over. I told him the head was a little weak. He said, "Oh, my grandma always put a popsicle stick in the neck." Then he wandered outside for a smoke. I couldn't help but follow to hear more. I was surprised to hear that his family also had the tradition, and I was further surprised to hear his grandma (Grandma Kelly) baked the cake. My dad joked, "My brothers and I would always complain and ask her to let us eat some before she put all the coconut on it." I laughed because I thought the coconut was the worst part, too. He told me that his grandma had a very old mold that she used to bake it in.

At that moment, I realized that the lamb cake must be a tradition in Chicago. It doesn't exist in Denver, but it's so mainstream in Chicago that you can buy them at the grocery store. It must be an old tradition, too, because both of the great-grandmothers that I knew had lamb cake for Easter. When I got home, I started searching through articles online. Other than info on how to make them and where to buy the molds, there was almost no information at all. There wasn't anything on wikipedia about the lamb cakes. I found one article that briefly mentioned them and said they were Polish (my German family also shares Polish roots). However, another article said the Polish tradition is actually butter molded into the shape of a lamb (another Easter item familiar to us from Chicago but not Denver). Yet another article briefly mentioned the lamb cakes and said they were Czech.

Finally (finally), I found one blurb of an article in a Chicago dining website. Here's the link: http://www.diningchicago.com/blog/2010/04/01/easter-means-lamb-cake-in-chicago/
According to this article, it's a Catholic tradition that has taken off in Chicago, where there were many Catholic immigrants (my great-grandparents on my mother's side were some). My father's grandmother was not Catholic (at least, I don't believe so), and her family was Danish. My dad described her lamb cake mold as very old, so I imagine the tradition goes back before her time. I wonder if her family picked it up after they immigrated to Chicago in the 19th century or if their tradition started in Europe.

My internet searches led me to an editorial in the Chicago Tribune. It's a personal story written by a woman who married a man from the South Side of Chicago (where my parents' families are from). His family was very traditional, and his aunt baked a lamb cake (article here: http://articles.chicagotribune.com/1999-03-31/features/9903310026_1_lamb-aunt-betty-easter). Indeed, the "tacky" lamb cake tradition must be an old one in the Second City. I continued browsing deeper and deeper into my Google search. I found a fraction of an article in the Chicago Sun-Times (http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1N1-12ECE503A28C5C40.html) that explained that the tradition is also still popular in Europe, especially in Poland.

Even though the history of the lamb cake is vague at best, I truly enjoyed learning that my family (on both sides) participated in the tradition. It was also fun to make our own lamb cake. To be honest, I couldn't even stay long enough to finish decorating it, and I find it so cute to think of my mom and dad decorating the cakes together. Yes, cakes. My mom told me that we should make two so I could bring one with me to Easter brunch tomorrow with Andrew's family. The best part is that two of Andrew's father's cousins will be there, and they're from the Chicago area. I'm eager to find out if they recognize the lamb cake, too. If not, everyone will just assume I brought a tacky cake. Too bad.