Easter: Between the Rabbit, the Cornfield, and the Table that Unites Us
- Chef Yerika
- Apr 20
- 4 min read

Easter Sunday in the United States is a celebration marked by colored eggs, family brunches, and the image of the Easter Bunny handing out candy. But beneath that veneer of festive lightness lies a more complex story: a holiday that blends religious roots, cultural transformations, and new searches for meaning.
For Latino communities—especially Mexicans—who have made the United States their home, Easter becomes a crossroads between inherited customs and new ways of celebrating.
Easter in the United States: Spirituality and Consumption
Originally, Christian Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus and the promise of eternal life. In American culture, this solemnity coexists with more commercial expressions: chocolate eggs, decorated baskets, children's hunts, and brunch menus featuring glazed ham, hot cross buns, and carrot cake. In many homes, Sunday Mass is followed by a picnic in the garden and photo shoots with children dressed as rabbits.
This vision of Easter, deeply influenced by Anglo-Saxon and Protestant traditions, has also evolved in contact with other cultures. Today, in cities like Los Angeles, San Antonio, and Chicago, Easter is not only a religious event, but also an opportunity for migrant families to weave new rituals, incorporate their own flavors, and redefine the holiday from its roots.
The echo of Easter in Mexico: between faith and land
While in the United States, Easter tends to look toward the sky and childhood, in Mexico, Holy Week is deeply connected to the earth, to agricultural work, and to the cycles of the cornfield. In many rural communities, Easter is a time of gratitude to the earth for the crops, a time of symbolic fasting, and ancestral cooking. Here, there are no chocolate bunnies, but there is mole with romeritos, shrimp cakes with nopales, and capirotada—dishes where corn, quelites, and nuts act as living symbols of memory and resistance.
The milpa—an indigenous agricultural system based on the intercropping of corn, beans, squash, chili peppers, and quelites—not only nourishes, it also connects. It reminds us that food is territory, that cooking is an act of identity, and that celebrating is also caring for what sustains us. Mexican Easter, although steeped in Christianity, is also a time to honor the milpa, its fruits, and its wisdom.
A meeting point: migration, cuisine and redefinition
For many Mexican families in the United States, Easter is an inevitable fusion. Carrot bread is baked alongside corn tortillas. Plastic eggs are hidden in gardens where tomatillos also grow. Mole is served alongside garlic spinach. Brunch thus becomes a space where two worlds converge: that of the Anglo-Saxon celebration and that of grandma's kitchen.
In these new hybrid rituals, the cornfield symbolically migrates. It is transformed into community gardens, Latin markets, and recipes adapted to the northern palate. Christian spirituality finds echo in practices such as planting, sharing food, and honoring ancestors. Even the symbol of the egg, so central to American Easter, can be reinterpreted as the cycle of the seed, of fertility, of agricultural rebirth.
Easter as a shared cultural territory
To talk about Easter today is also to talk about diaspora, about fluid identity, about merging cuisines. In the United States, Easter is no longer a strictly religious or commercial tradition, but has become—for many—a stage for dialogue between cultures. It's no coincidence that so many Latinx chefs today are exploring dishes that take the best of both worlds: a breakfast burrito with romeritos sauce, a quiche with zucchini and epazote, a reinterpreted capirotada with brioche bread.
The tradition of the cornfield, though seemingly foreign to the urban American context, lives on in every family that saves seeds, cooks from the roots, and honors the table as an altar. Easter, then, becomes more than a holiday: it becomes a conversation between the past and present, between the earth and the spiritual, between what we were and what we are creating.
Easter as a shared cultural territory
1. Quelites Tacos with Fresh Cheese
Inspiration: Quelites (such as purslane or quintoniles) have been an essential part of the milpa since pre-Hispanic times.
Ingredients:
2 cups of quelites (purslane, papalo or quintonil)
1 clove of garlic
2 tablespoons of chopped onion
1 tablespoon of oil
Salt to taste
4 corn tortillas
Crumbled fresh cheese
Quick Preparation: Sauté the garlic and onion in oil until softened. Add the quelites and sauté for 3 to 5 minutes until tender. Season with salt. Serve in warm tortillas and sprinkle with queso fresco.
Chef Yerika Tip: Add a few drops of lemon and a raw green sauce to enhance its herbal flavor.
2. Cactus Salad with Pumpkin Seeds
Inspiration: Fresh and symbolic Lenten dish, with essential products from the milpa: nopal, chile and pepita.
Ingredients:
1 cup of cooked and drained nopales
1 diced tomato
1/4 red onion, sliced thinly
2 tablespoons of toasted pumpkin seeds
1 tablespoon of olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Salt to taste
Quick preparation: Mix the nopales with tomato, onion, pumpkin seeds, oil, and lemon. Season with salt and serve cold.
Chef Yerika's Tip: If you like, add some avocado slices or some fresh serrano pepper.
3. Express Capirotada Bread
Inspiration: A nod to the traditional capirotada, but in a quick version for those celebrating at home without much time.
Ingredients:
4 slices of hard bolillo bread or sandwich bread
1 cup of plant-based or regular milk
2 tablespoons of grated piloncillo or brown sugar
1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons of raisins
1 tablespoon chopped walnuts
1 tablespoon of butter
Quick preparation: Melt the butter in a pan and lightly toast the bread. Separately, heat the milk with the piloncillo and cinnamon until dissolved. Pour over the bread in a saucepan or skillet, and top with the raisins and walnuts. Cook over low heat for 5 minutes until absorbed.
Chef Yerika Tip: You can bake it for 10 minutes at 180°C to give it a crispy finish.
Easter is rebirth. But it's also reunion. Between cornfields and suburban gardens, between the cross and the seed, between mole and carrot cake, a new tradition is being built. A tradition that doesn't erase the old one, but rather expands it, redefines it, and shares it.
Because in times of migration, memory is also celebrated in the kitchen.
Comments