Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Anybody else out there love deviled eggs?  Because I really, REALLY do.  My parents do, too, and we grew up having them every Easter (or, rather, AFTER every Easter).  My brother, apparently, never liked them–I discovered this a few years ago–but enough of us did that I got my fix on a regular basis.

And then I married my husband.  And I love my husband.  But the man hates, loathes, despises, and abominates eggs.  In pretty much all forms (other than baked into a cake).  And my oldest inherited this loathing–this unadulterated loathing–are you singing yet?  She did, though.  She doesn’t even like desserts like creme brulee.  And then my middle is picky all-around, and I haven’t tried them on my 21-month-old, and so–long story short–I don’t get to eat deviled eggs as often as I used to.

I still make them, though, because I LOVE THEM.  And luckily, my neighbors like them too.  It occurred to me at one point, however, that since I’d collected at LEAST 4 deviled egg recipes from my cooking magazine, I should possibly experiment to see if there were new deviled egg horizons that needed to be explored.  (After all, it would be a crime to miss out on something good.)  And so, one year post-Easter, I went to town.  I halved, quartered, eighthed, etc. to make the number of recipes fit the number of hard-boiled eggs I had, and I made at least four different varieties of deviled eggs.  My neighbors, obligingly, helped me eat them.  (Did I mention that my husband won’t even kiss me after I’ve eaten hard-boiled eggs?)  And their consensus was the same as mine:  the recipe I grew up with was unquestionably the best.  The others weren’t bad–although the one involving blue cheese was so strong that I still get teased about it–but this recipe was better.  And so here you are.  My gift to you.

Deviled Eggs (from a church cookbook)

6 hard-boiled eggs

1/4 C mayonnaise (NOT Miracle Whip)

1 T sweet pickle relish (even if you don’t like sweet pickles, which I don’t; do NOT use dill relish, because it isn’t nearly as good.  I tried once               when I was out of sweet.)

1 t horseradish (not sauce, or mustard, just prepared grated horseradish.  Don’t leave it out–you need it for the flavor.  They sell little bitty               bottles of it in the same aisle as the mustards, and it lasts forever in your fridge.)

1 t mustard (yellow is fine, spicy brown or horseradish mustard is better; I wouldn’t use Dijon)

1/4 t salt

Paprika, preferably smoked (for sprinkling on top)

Peel the eggs (carefully!) and cut them in half (ditto!).  Pop the yolks into a bowl and set the halved whites on a plate, platter, whatever.  Take a fork and smoosh your yolks, add the rest of the ingredients to the bowl, and mix well.  Dollop the mixture into your halved whites and put a pinch of paprika on top.  Voila!  They’re probably a bit better after chilling for a while, but they’re plenty good immediately.  After all, the one or two whites that tear just have to be taken care of, right?  They’ll never hold up if you try to serve them that way…

And there you have it.  They are flavorful and tangy and lovely, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!