I am making deviled eggs.

Today, as of 10 am, I had:

  • awoken to the disappointing realization that a decent night’s sleep had not left me refreshed and ready to tackle this Friday (as was the deal I made with my brain, just last night). I’m still tired, that kind of tired that makes you think the only thing that could alleviate your exhaustion would be a week of non-stop sleeping. And since I don’t have a newborn, I don’t really feel I have a valid excuse for this kind of tired.
  • watched my 5-year old throw another walking-out-the-door-for-school tantrum, even though I thought I’d done everything in my power to stave one off.
  • had one of those Mom-moments that you fear could have been observed on some sort of Mom Candid Camera, or by a watchful neighbor. You want to be seen as a Mom Who Always Keeps Her Cool, and is Eternally Patient. But you’re not.
  • drove an emotionally-drained self and 5-year old to his school, and for the entire trip, wondered things such as, how can I let this adorable, and mostly delightful, but also human little boy push my buttons so quickly? and why didn’t I foresee the freak-out session over the misplaced favorite jacket?
  • returned home with the 2-year old, stuck her in front of PBS, and sat down to gather my thoughts. There were dishes to plan, groceries to buy, bills to pay, and laundry to do. Preferably, all before 2pm when it was time to pickup the 5-year old from school.* While not just letting the 2-year old watch TV all morning (which was so, very, tempting).

We have a brunch to attend on Sunday, which promises to be a delightful time, with friends from church and outside of church, and friends we’ve yet to meet. And a whole roasted lamb, which has me more than a little excited. I’ve been pondering my contribution, finding little inspiration, thinking about last year’s sour cherries, the last little bits still in our deep-freezer, considering new things like gnocchi, wondering how to serve frozen yogurt to 30 adults and almost as many sticky, egg-finding children. And then it hit me, in a moment of instant relief, it was a no-brainer, in fact I really knew it all along.

I will make deviled eggs,** for the first time ever. I will provide the one thing I always hope to find at the brunch table, the one thing I eat embarrassing quantities of, each time I am faced with a platter.

One thing down. But it’s funny, how that decision has nailed down a corner of my day, and the rest of it no longer seems to be blowing away in the chilly spring wind.

* Grocery postponed. Instead chose to stay home w/ the Wee One, do at-home chores, and make sour cherry frozen yogurt. Priorities, right?

** The greenish eggs in the photo are not some exotic variety. They are the color you get when you dye brown eggs blue, which is what we did yesterday at an egg-dyeing party, where I was the one who brought the “hippy eggs.” And darnit if we won’t use them.

23 thoughts on “I am making deviled eggs.

  1. Me too! I make them every year… and I eat almost all of hem almost every year.

    And I know you didn’t ask, but here are my varieties:
    *blue cheese and bacon
    *Mediterranean (feta and herbs)

    But all the peeling? Ugh, I hate that part.

    1. great to know, because I wanted to make a Mediterranean variety since the lamb roast will have all of those flavors. I plan to add capers too — but had not considered feta. I think I even have some in my fridge…

  2. I always find it funny the similarities we have as siblings who could not be more different… But I, too, will make an ass of myself over deviled eggs.

    The ones I like to make have dijon mustard and real bacon. Plus you can add chives from the garden if you have them.

    (On a side note, our chives from last year regrew themselves… is that normal?)

    (On another side note, I can remember another middle child who used to have freak outs as late as highschool over specific missing clothing pieces, but that’s because they were usually in my closet and I was the target of said melt-downs, lol… )


    1. Chives will regrow every year. Once a bunch gets pretty big I’ll split them with a shovel and transplant or give to friends.

      1. Angie and Bob — my chives came back as well, and I was surprised and delighted, as I’m still getting used to being in a different zone here in Indy (rosemary isn’t a perennial?). I’d never thought to split them, but now I will.

        And Ang, I have absolutely no memory whatsoever of high school freak-outs over missing clothes… do you have submittable evidence?????

  3. Motherhood can be exhausting in ways I never imagined. I can have done “nothing” all day but still feel like I’ve run a marathon. It usually means I need a fun new project or some time to do something just for myself. 🙂

    Deviled eggs sound like a great thing to bring to a brunch. 🙂
    Happy Easter!

    1. Thanks Becky — it is always somehow helpful to remember that it’s an exhaustion shared by every mom in the world, at some point, or many points. I feel better already this morning, after a fun night out for a friend’s birthday — so insightful advice ; )

  4. You know, for YEARS I hung onto an amber-colored glass deviled egg plate that belonged to Gonnie. I don’t know if I still have it, will have to check. Then one of you must have it, because I HATE deviled eggs. Just give me a hard-boiled egg with plain yolk, please, leave the devil out of it.

    You know, according to “The Southern Belle Primer,” you cannot be a TRUE Southern woman if you don’t own a deviled egg plate.

    1. Well, I *think* I do have a glass deviled egg plate — it is large and round, on a very small pedestal, but the oval indentations are on the underside. So I’m not sure if it’s just supposed to suggest eggs? But not really hold them in place?

      1. Every deviled egg plate I’ve ever seen has the indentations on the top — they are there to keep the eggs from sliding around. I don’t think a suggestion of indentations would do the same. I think you have a cake plate with an unusual design.

        Want me to look for you a nice, old-fashioned deviled egg plate?

  5. And I’m glad you explained the green eggs because they were freaking me out. But I’ll remember how they are made, in case I am ever invited to some sort of Dr. Seuss event.

  6. I wanted to let you know that I made your sticky bun recipe for our church Easter breakfast this morning. I love that the only refined sugar is in the filling! I’ve long loved my mom’s classic recipe but wanted to get away from so much refined sugar and even the tiny bit of corn syrup it has.

    I added more finely chopped pecans in the filling. They were very good and got lots of compliments — I’ll definitely make them again.

    Also, on browsing your blog a bit: toasted coconut ice cream sounds divine (I miss Ben and Jerry’s Coconut Almond Fudge Chip, and one reason coconut custard pie trumps coconut cream is because the coconut in the custard pie is toasted). And, I looooove linzer cookies. And, finally, I’m glad to not be the only one to describe raw milk as grassy-tasting. I have only tried it once, but having been nearly all my life a skim-user — and only in cooking, in cereal, and for dipping cookies — it was too, too different. I wish I liked it — and ferments, and so on. I’ll try again some day!

    1. Marcy, I know — so many of these things I’m trying hard to acquire a taste for. This gamey milk, I just can’t do, not when it’s strong (ours is still strong, especially as the week goes on — each week we hope it goes back to “normal”). I’m also on the fence with homemade dairy kefir (I have to use it in a smoothie, or add lots of honey, etc.), some ferments (I tried Nourishing Traditions “tame” ginger carrots and hated them!), etc. It’s not the tartness that bothers, it’s something funkier. Probably the very stuff that is so beneficial ; )

      If you make the toasted coconut ice cream, also splurge on some mangoes and let it share the bowl with mango sorbet — you won’t regret the effort.

      1. Mango sorbet does sound very lovely indeed.

        I’m so tickled to find someone else who would like to do more Weston Price-ish things but doesn’t quite yet have the taste for them all.

        Kefir is just awful, to me. I confess that even though I like yogurt, and I know I like yogurt, I still have to steel myself for that first bite, as if I don’t think I’m going to like it.

        I just might, possibly, try making kombucha — it was the only ferment I tasted (at a fermenting class last year) that I could imagine maybe someday potentially liking.

        On an older post you talked about freezing and canning tomatoes. I usually make stockpots of spaghetti sauce at a time, and freeze the sauce in family-size portions — it freezes just fine. I also froze and canned plain tomatoes. We just used our last jar from last summer, but I didn’t record how many we canned and froze — I didn’t really notice a difference in wateriness between canning and freezing. Depending on the recipe, I toss the contents in a wire strainer over a bowl for a few minutes — my little girl and husband drink the resulting juice, and the tomatoes go less waterily into the recipe.

      2. Katy, Jerry and I bought fresh tomato juice from a local guy by the truckload last summer… I have NEVER liked tomoato juice but this stuff was divine. Also, it was expensive. Have a recipe for making it?

      3. The stuff my husband and daughter were drinking was literally just the drainings from canned tomatoes. I think the canning recipe had me peel the tomatoes, crush or finely chop a third or a quarter of them, and boil them for a while, then put them in the clean jars and process in a hot water bath. I don’t know that I’d call it divine, but they seem to like it okay.

      1. We would take him. Paul begs me to adopt him a brother regularly.
        (what is up with middle children?):)

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