Pioneer Potluck: Easter Dinner

On a farm in Northern Colorado


Easter dinner was always planned at least two weeks ahead of time on the farm where we grew up. Mom planned the menu, drove into town in her old Pea Green Dodge and shopped at Steal’s Market. Drove the 14 miles back home, put paper sacks loaded with groceries away, and began baking cookies, pies, bread and rolls. She would put the baked goods in the freezer and begin thinking about the China, the silverware and serving dishes that she would need for Easter Dinner. Dinner was served at 1 o’clock and theleft-over’s were served for supper at 6.

On Good Friday, usually a half a day of school, or spring vacation, was the day we colored Easter Eggs. Then Mom would have me wash and hand dry all the china and silverware. Stacked on the dining room table beside the heavily starched linen table cloth that she had washed on Monday, in the old wringer washing machine, starched in a tub of starch water, and hung on the line to dry. Our Easter dresses, dads white shirt, were also washed and heavily starched. The tablecloth and other starched clothes were brought in from the line, sprinkled with water, rolled up and put in a basket to be ironed on Tuesday. Mom taught me how to iron, and in later years, when I had a family of my own, I took in ironing, and babysat two small children. I loved to iron standing in front of the old black and white TV, watching Bette Davis movies. I still like to iron. (I also loved to make my two girls Easter Dresses, applying the lessons I had learned in Home Ec.)

On Saturday, at the farm, the whole house was cleaned from top to bottom, and tarnished. (My sister, Elaine, called polishing the furniture “tarnishing.”) We were assigned different jobs. After our job was finished, mom would inspect and redo most of it. The piano and the dining room table and chairs, and a buffet that held all the silverware and China were in the dining room. I was responsible for polishing all of the dining room furniture. I can still smell lemon scented Johnson’s Furniture Polish. I am sure mom went over my polishing job because I used an excessive amount of polish.

Saturday night was bath night. Mom curled my white, straight as a string hair, with bobby pins, and later those little pink rollers. Ginger had thick auburn curly hair. Then we polished our shoes, with the help from dad. Then planned exactly what we were going to wear for Easter Church Services.

I can remember how excited I was to crawl into nice clean smelling sheets and blankets so I could go to sleep real fast, because the Easter Bunny was going to leave us beautiful Easter baskets on Sunday morning. Somehow the Easter bunny hid all of those colored eggs around the house for us to find.

Then it was time to get dressed and go to church. After a quick breakfast, usually bacon and eggs, fried potatoes and toast, milk and juice, we were allowed to get dressed in our “Easter Sunday Go To Meeting Clothes” (my dad’s words.) Mom took the bobby pins or the pink rollers out of my hair. Combed and bushed she put barrettes or ribbons in our hair, and for a few years we wore Easter hats, which I adored. I felt so grown up. My brother wore a suit and starched white shirt and tie just like dad. He also had a hat he wore (just like dad.) We were lined up at the kitchen door, inspected one more time by our mother, and sent off to church with dad, who had been wating in the car for 15 minutes for us to “load up!”

Mom went to church with us, all dressed up, with a hat, several times on Easter and Christmas, but after my little brother and sister were born, she stopped going. Her excuse was she had too much to do to get dinner on the table after church. She really did!! She had to put the huge ham in the oven, bake the sweet potatoes so they could receive brown sugar, butter, maple syrup and marshmallows at the last minute for Easter dinner. We always had company for Easter dinner. Usually grandma and grandpa and uncle’s and in later years cousins from Greeley. After dinner and dessert, us kids could eat the candy from our Easter baskets, which got shared and given to dad. It was a great holiday, treated like the great day of the Resurrection. So many Happy Easter Memories. And how did you celebrate Easter when you were growing up?

The Pioneer Potluck series is written by 50-year resident of Alaska, Ann Berg of Nikiski. Ann shares her collections of recipesfrom family and friends. She has gathered recipes for more that 50 years. Some are her own creation. Her love of recipes andfood came from her mother, a self -taught wonderful cook. She hopes you enjoy the recipes and that the stories will bring asmile to your day. Grannie Annie can be reached at

More in Life

Minister’s Message: What unites? Being one in Christ

It seems everywhere you look and on every level people are gridlocked

The secret to this homemade vegetarian lasagna is the addition of fresh noodles from scratch. (Photo by Tressa Dale/Peninsula Clarion)
On the strawberry patch: The secret’s in the noodles

Handmade pasta adds layers of flavor to vegetable lasagna

Virginia Walters (Courtesy photo)
Life in the Pedestrian Lane: Downtime

Now here we are, two-thirds of the way through the longest month of the year

Robert “Bob” Huttle, posing here next to Cliff House, spent the night in this cabin in April 1934 and mused about a possible murder there. (Photo courtesy of the Huttle Collection)
Twists and turns in the history of Cliff House — Part 2

How much of the doctor’s actions Bob Huttle knew when he stayed in Cliff House 10 years later is difficult to know.

Achieving the crispy, flaky layers of golden goodness of a croissant require precision and skill. (Photo by Tresa Dale/Peninsula Clarion)
On the strawberry patch: Reaching the pinnacle of patisserie

Croissants take precision and skill, but the results can be delightful

This 1940s-era image is one of few early photographs of Cliff House, which once stood near the head of Tustumena Lake. (Photo courtesy of the Secora Collection)
Twists and turns in the history of Cliff House — Part 1

Here, then, is the story of Cliff House, as least as I know it now.

Minister’s Message: What’s in a name?

The Scriptures advise, “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.”

Visitors put on personal protective equipment before an artist talk by Dr. Sami Ali' at the Jan. 7, 2022, First Friday opening of her exhibit, "The Mind of a Healthcare Worker During the COVID-19 Pandemic," at the Homer Council on the Arts in Homer, Alaska. (Photo by Michael Armstrong/Homer News)
ER doctor’s paintings follow passage of pandemic

Dr. Sami Ali made 2019 resolution to paint every day — and then the COVID-19 pandemic hit.

Almond flour adds a nuttiness to this carrot cake topped with cream cheese frosting. (Photo by Tressa Dale/Peninsula Clarion)
On the strawberry patch: A ‘perfect day’ cake

Carrot cake and cream cheese frosting make for a truly delicious day off

Minister’s Message: A prayer pulled from the ashes

“In that beleaguered and beautiful land, the prayer endures.”

A copy of “The Year of Magical Thinking” by author Joan Didion is displayed on an e-reader. (Photo by Ashlyn O’Hara/Peninsula Clarion)
Off the Shelf: Didion’s “Year of Magical Thinking” is a timely study on grief

‘The last week of 2021 felt like a good time to pick up one of her books.’