On Devilled Eggs

I do quite love a good devilled egg.  I like to think I make a pretty fine devilled egg myself.  I have a secret ingredient that adds a little kick to the regular mix of mayo and mustard.  Of course, I sprinkle them with a little paprika or add a caper or two.  I even have a designated devilled-egg-serving-platter.  In my opinion, no Sunday brunch, or cocktail party, is complete without devilled eggs.

But there are issues.  Aren’t there always issues?

Who among us hasn’t cursed the hen that laid the un-shellable egg?  Hasn’t felt that bottomless pit of despair when the shell comes off in bits too small to matter?   Who hasn’t ended up with egg surfaces that look like moon craters? Hasn’t screamed at a universe that allows such things to happen at times of crisis…..like an hour before the Sunday brunch or the cocktail party?  Hasn’t thrown the wretched eggs in the trash with no backup plan?

I don’t even want to hear about people who’ve not experienced any of those anxious, bordering on tragic, moments. I desperately need commiserative misery.  Nothing else will satisfy. Not even one of my very own delicious devilled eggs.