In the weeks before Easter, as before any holiday, the kindergarten classroom began to transform. Art projects featuring eggs, hens and bunnies began to populate every bare surface along with vases of forsythia and pussy willows adorned with dyed eggs hanging from ribbons.
One of my colleagues handed me this lovely egg told me it was a gift.
One of my colleagues handed me this lovely egg told me it was a gift.
"Oh, it's so lovely!" I told her.
"I made it myself. It's easy. I can show you how to do it." Kati replied.
The following week, I was given this little tool along with a stack of traditional Hungarian patterns. I realized that she was not actually going to show me how to do it, but help equip me with the tools and information I would need.
Next on the supply list: beeswax. The search for beeswax was a project in itself, but after many failed attempts, I finally bought a half pound of beeswax from the only source in Kecskemét: "The Honey Shop" - a tiny room tucked inside a small strip mall that is only open two days a week according to their sign, and less than that according to whatever handwritten post-it note is on the door at the moment.
Jon and I had been blowing out and saving eggs for Easter for a couple weeks. One lesson we learned from the 2009 project: If you plan ahead, there is no need to blow out 15 eggs in a single afternoon and spend the following two days eating nothing but scrambled eggs. I had come across a few other tips since then I also wanted to try. First of all, if you soak the leaves in water, they stick better to the egg, and secondly, if you leave the eggs in the dye bath overnight, there's no need to hang them dry. With all this new information, I wanted to try a batch of the leaf patterns to see how they would turn out.
Now it was time to try the new technique: hímes tojás (sounds like "hee-mesh toy-ah-sh). It is essentially the Hungarian take on the well-known Ukranian wax-resist egg, pysanka. The premise is simple: Apply wax to the surface of the egg in your desired pattern, soak eggs in a dye-bath, and wipe off the wax leaving the pattern which had been under the wax a lighter color than the dyed egg.
I am both proud and embarrassed that my egg turned out to be exactly the opposite of what I was shooting for.
How could this happen? Let me explain.
After I had gathered all my supplies, I sat down to work on the designs. It was a rough start.
Both Jon and I tried our hand at copying the patterns Kati had given me, and before long we had eight eggs ready for dyeing. I still had the dye leftover from the first batch of leaf-patterned eggs, but I wanted a brighter dye. They just didn't look as dark as Kati's egg. We didn't have any more onion skins, so Jon suggested adding a little vinegar. "Why not?" we both thought. Let's give it a try.
By now I'm sure many of you have figured out why my egg turned out a little funny. For those of you as rusty in science as I apparently was: If you leave an egg in a vinegar solution OVERNIGHT, the eggshell will dissolve.
Jon and I had been blowing out and saving eggs for Easter for a couple weeks. One lesson we learned from the 2009 project: If you plan ahead, there is no need to blow out 15 eggs in a single afternoon and spend the following two days eating nothing but scrambled eggs. I had come across a few other tips since then I also wanted to try. First of all, if you soak the leaves in water, they stick better to the egg, and secondly, if you leave the eggs in the dye bath overnight, there's no need to hang them dry. With all this new information, I wanted to try a batch of the leaf patterns to see how they would turn out.
Now it was time to try the new technique: hímes tojás (sounds like "hee-mesh toy-ah-sh). It is essentially the Hungarian take on the well-known Ukranian wax-resist egg, pysanka. The premise is simple: Apply wax to the surface of the egg in your desired pattern, soak eggs in a dye-bath, and wipe off the wax leaving the pattern which had been under the wax a lighter color than the dyed egg.
I am both proud and embarrassed that my egg turned out to be exactly the opposite of what I was shooting for.
How could this happen? Let me explain.
After I had gathered all my supplies, I sat down to work on the designs. It was a rough start.
first attempt: "blobs"
I was doing it all wrong. I tried dipping the íroka in a can of melted wax (I swear that's what I thought Kati told me to do!), but by the time I got it to the egg, the wax would solidify making anything other than blobs an impossibility. Thankfully, Jon took one look at my blob egg and started doing research on the internet. Turns out you should heat the íroka over a candle flame and melt the wax into it.
Both Jon and I tried our hand at copying the patterns Kati had given me, and before long we had eight eggs ready for dyeing. I still had the dye leftover from the first batch of leaf-patterned eggs, but I wanted a brighter dye. They just didn't look as dark as Kati's egg. We didn't have any more onion skins, so Jon suggested adding a little vinegar. "Why not?" we both thought. Let's give it a try.
By now I'm sure many of you have figured out why my egg turned out a little funny. For those of you as rusty in science as I apparently was: If you leave an egg in a vinegar solution OVERNIGHT, the eggshell will dissolve.
This is called an acid-base reaction. This calcium carbonate crystals in the egg shell react with the acid in the vinegar creating carbon dioxide. Notice the little bubbles?
What have I done?!!
Thankfully there was not enough vinegar in the mixture to completely dissolve the eggshells, but two were too soft to salvage. The rest turned out pretty cool. The vinegar washed away the brown color and the wax preserved the original brown color.Oops!







