Resurrecting this post in honor of Good Friday…
On a hectic Easter morning two years ago, my son Vinnie and I resurrected a lamb.
Like most metaphorical projects, ours began with a casual request.
“Could you bring a lamb cake?” asked my sister in-law and Easter hostess, Donna.
Happy to support the nostalgic inclinations of my in-laws, I readily agreed (even though the last time I jumped on a Biskupic culinary trip down memory lane I spent a chunk of time and finger skin de-clawing lobster tails.)
But I digress.
For this project, we needed a lamb cake tin so I borrowed one from my friend Jeannie, who borrowed it from her mother, who inherited it from her Grandma. This tin brought a lot of history to my house. It also brought Jeannie, who wanted to supervise the process and, I assume, keep an eye on the antique tin.
We used the official lamb cake recipe, which came…
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