The Easter Chicken

April 4, 2010

When Cade was about five years old, he started asking a lot of questions about the Easter Bunny.  It didn’t take long to discover the source of his confusion:  it was the eggs.  We had just been to the community Easter Egg Hunt, where children fill egg cartons with candy-filled plastic eggs that are lying in an open field in plain view (no hunting required).  The Easter Bunny made an appearance and sat for pictures with the children.  But, Cade reasoned, bunnies don’t lay eggs.   So “shouldn’t it really be an Easter Chicken?”   Turns out that it just might be, if you are in Austria. …

Historically and traditionally, Austria is very Catholic, although I’ve been seeing headlines here that indicate that the religiosity of its residents is in a rapidly declining state.  It seems that the weekly church-goers only comprise about 10 percent of the population… and that percentage tends to be OLD.   But regardless of religious affiliation or activity, Easter is a very popular holiday here and everyone seems to celebrate it in one way or another.   The Easter Bunny does play a starring traditional role, but the Easter Chicken gets face time in Easter baskets as well... in chocolate form.   I’m not exactly sure about the particulars, but apparently the Easter Chicken custom originated in Austria and is now followed by many countries around the world.  Cade was happy to hear it.

Easter is a beautiful time to be in Vienna.  This is a place that literally sloughs off its winter skin and bursts into spring… and it seems to happen overnight right around Easter time.  For the last week or two, there have been Easter markets around the city.  Vendors come and set up temporary wooden hut-type stands in the streets to sell their food, handicrafts and other wares.   The most popular attraction of these markets, however, is the Easter egg itself.  Thousands of fragile eggs, blown empty and painted in all types of patterns and themes, sit in scattered piles of cartons waiting to be selected and purchased.  The eggs are expensive, ranging in price from about $3 for the simple ones to upwards of $30 each for the more detailed and fancy ones.   Walking through the display with three young children and a backpack gave new drama and meaning to the expression “[trying hard not to be] walking on eggshells.”   Nervewracking! 

The eggs have strings attached (don’t ask me how).  They are used like Christmas tree ornaments, and people attach them to long pussy willows or other kinds of branches and use them as decorations and centerpieces in their homes.  There are plain eggshells for sale as well for the artistic-do-it-yourselfers:  regular brown eggs, goose eggs and huge ostrich ones.  Prospective buyers hold an egg carton and walk around, carefully examining individual eggs and making their selections.  It does seem a little bit strange to see people spend hundreds of dollars on eggs that are one accidental brush or false step away from destruction.  But I am entranced and am already planning an egg-blowing and painting party for next year.  My house.  Wednesday.  7 p.m.