The Sandpoint Eater: Spring’s sprung

By Marcia Pilgeram
Reader Columnist

At the risk of sounding cliché, can we please talk about the weather? About “spring” rushing forth like an angry lion and then going absolutely nowhere — lingering, circling back and menacing my neighborhood like a boomerang. It bursts through doors and windows in a rush of light and warmth, only to dash away again in sudden gusts of wind and rain. One day the sun warms the back of my neck; the next, I’m digging out wool scarves to fend off goosebumps and wondering if winter ever truly left.

Even during our coldest spells, I noticed odd, stubborn tussocks of green grass — impervious to the elements. Stranger still, a few anomalous flowers dared to bloom here and there all winter long, as if they knew something the rest of us didn’t. 

But now, something far more dependable is happening. Quietly and faithfully, the first foods of spring are pushing their way up through the cold earth. My mother’s heirloom rhubarb plant is once again reaching for the light, its small, bright red crowns cracking open to unfurl crinkled leaves — an annual promise that warmer days are, indeed, on their way.

That sense of renewal is precisely what makes Easter my favorite holiday. Every so often, my birthday lands on Easter Sunday, making the day feel doubly meaningful. The first time that happened was my sixth birthday, and I remember it vividly — especially the cake, covered in thick swirls of seven-minute icing and topped with coconut my mother had carefully dyed green to resemble spring grass.

Thanks to my devoutly Catholic grandmother — and her ever-present Bible, with its meticulous perpetual calendar — I knew well in advance that my birthday would again fall on Easter when I turned 17. And now, we wait once more. As my 96th birthday approaches (but no time soon!), my sons-in-law are already making plans. They’ve vetoed a traditional egg hunt, worried I might never find the eggs, but they’ve promised a vodka luge instead — and you’re all invited.

In the meantime, I’m focused on planning this year’s menu. Our Easter table will feature a rich, savory ham, tender young vegetables, plenty of deviled eggs and a variety of sweet breads served warm from the oven. 

It’s a meal that balances comfort with brightness — the deep, caramelized flavor of a slow-roasted glazed ham alongside crisp asparagus stalks and delicate spring greens. I always include scones in the Easter bread basket, and this year they’ll be lightly sweet with a hint of citrus, meant to complement everything else on the table while still holding their own.

Whether the egg hunt unfolds outside on the lawn or a sudden spring squall sends us indoors, we’ll gather afterward around a long table, heaped with family favorites. There’s something about that moment — plates passing, laughter rising, stories overlapping — that feels like the truest celebration of the season.

As you plan your own Easter meal, it’s worth remembering that not every table will be full. While you’re shopping, consider adding a few extra items to your cart to donate to the food bank. My good friend Debbie Love, executive director of the Bonner Community Food Bank, shared that in addition to Easter meal staples, current needs include cereal; canned tuna; canned chicken; condiments like ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise; and, of course, jelly. And maybe a bag of jelly beans, too — it is Easter, after all.

Debbie also shared with me that more than 300 people attended the recent Empty Bowl fundraiser at Marigold Bistro. Even arriving early, I found it standing room only with a line that snaked through the building. When my turn finally came, I was handed a serving of hearty soup in a beautiful handmade bowl — a simple meal that carried a powerful reminder of how generously this community shows up, time and again.

Now, let’s savor the bright flavors of spring. Roast the asparagus, glaze the ham and pull a tray of heavenly scented scones from the oven. Celebrate the season and the people gathered around your table. And as you do, remember that even the smallest gesture — a shared meal, a donated can, a moment of kindness — has a ripple effect. 

I’ll be busy baking and sharing orange pistachio scones. Just this morning someone told me it was the best scone they’d ever had. Give them a try and see if you agree.

Happy Easter!

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Orange pistachio Easter scones

These scones will complement most any springtime menu. Lovely served at breakfast, brunch or teatime. For the best scones, keep all your ingredients very cold and use a light hand to mix. Yield 8-10 scones