For some reason rabbit is regarded as a national dish in Malta. A bit surprising when you consider that most of the island has now been built over and there is precious little space for rabbits to run free. I did partake of the meat (traditional rabbit and chips) at a local restaurant during our recent visit but wasn’t over-impressed.
Easter bunnies (the chocolate variety) however bring back memories of childhood; of my elderly grandfather dressed in dark suit and tie solemnly listening to the Good Friday service on the radio with the Bible on his knee; hard-boiled eggs with painted faces dyed red with cochineel on Easter Sunday ; and the Marks Tey Point-to-Point on Bank Holiday Monday.
My younger brother often added an element of the unexpected at Easter. Known variously as Wub, Boons, Teddy, the RB, and Walrus – none of which bear any relation to his given names – he helped solve an etiquette problem regarding the consumption of chocolate rabbits. Having removed the wrappers there was doubt and confusion in the family as to which end to eat first. Do you nibble away delicately at the feet or back of the bunny? Do you try and split it into two halves? Do you work up from the base? “Bah!” opined the walrus, promptly biting off head and ears in a single mouthful, to the horror of the rest of us.
Needless to say the Walrus grew up to become a banker, whilst my sister, elder brother and I pursued less extreme vocations.
P.S.
Shortly after posting this I received the following:
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