Egg overdose

Eggs courtesy of resident underage artists

Eggs courtesy of resident underage artists

A reader (and friend) Margaret wrote me this weekend, “What do I do with the dozen dyed hard-boiled eggs besides make them into egg salad, which I love, but my husband hates?”

I hardly have to remind Margaret, who has Southern roots, about deviled eggs, which I could personally eat at least 3/4 of a dozen of. Everyone has a favorite recipe, but a dozen is the perfect opportunity to play around with a few different varieties—why not chopped capers, olives, and parsley? Pesto? Lemon zest, juice, and poppyseeds? A combo I worked on for Valerie B.’s cookbook—wasabi, crowned with pickled ginger? A little chopped onion and sweet pickle? Curry powder? My beloved combo to flavor anything—Old Bay and lemon juice?

Let’s not forget some of the dishes improved by a few wedged hard-boiled eggs: Cobb salad and salade nicoise, but also a bowl of ramen noodles. Or throw some halved ones on top of your pizza, along with a slice of prosciutto, artichoke hearts, and some olives: Classic pizza capricciosa! How about a tramezzine, those Italian overgrown finger sandwiches? Here, the eggs are not wedged but sliced, and layered onto crustless white bread slicked with butter or mayo, and something else delightful like chopped spinach or artichoke hearts. Sound too dainty? How about along with roast beef and horseradish, for an everyday steak-and-eggs sandwich? Or layer some on crusty bread along with an olive oil-and-vinegar-dressed tuna salad sandwich and plenty of sliced olives.

How about making Scotch eggs? You can google a recipe, but you can also just wrap the eggs in mild Italian sausage meat (it’s like making meatballs), then breadcrumbs, and sauteeing or baking until the sausage is cooked through.

Finally, if you’ll forgive me for the shameless plug, they do make unparalleled snacks, especially if you set up a little dipping bar as I describe in this post.

In my case, I’m betting the majority of my eggs will make it into egg salad (Margaret’s husband, stop reading here), because I love egg salad. I love it so much, that my ideal is to add nothing at all except mayo, when the eggs are freshly cooked, so that the salad is still warm. Since that’s not an option here (warm eggs would only mean they’ve been sitting in my kids’ hot hands long enough to toss in the trash), my first batch will likely have a dash of some Dijon mustard and a healthy snipping from the chive plant that my husband brought home yesterday. Later in the week, I’ll probably move on to sriracha egg salad, or the hackneyed but glorious curried egg salad. With some sweet pickles on an open-faced grainy bread—oh boy. I must declare that it will be a glorious week of lunches.

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