Three Deviled Eggs

To keep talking about deviled eggs for a second, the best ones I’ve ever had were served as a trio: they all had a yolk-and-mayo base, but one came mixed with avocado and shredded tuna; another came covered in thick squares of fancy bacon and balsamic vinegar-macerated strawberries; and the third came topped with whipped goat cheese, caviar, and a papal-style crown of cured salmon. They were incredible. The salmon one was so tall it made me consider the outer limits of the deviled egg — could you put half a hard boiled egg under anything and call it a Deviled Egg [Anything]? Deviled Egg Chicken Wrap. Deviled Egg Glass of Water. It could almost be like the Princess and the Pea: “Is this … a Deviled Egg Strip Steak?” she’d ask after one bite, pulling the meat back to reveal that, yes, there was a half a hard boiled egg beneath it. “Unbelievable,” they’d say.

The ones I eat most frequently come with a smooth yolk-and-mayo filling and are sprinkled with chives, glued to the plate with a dab of that filling, topped with a slice of radish, and eaten with one or two of the little hot red pepper slices that have been piled beside them. (Tell the waiter you’re “actually just going to have another round of deviled eggs instead,” though, and he will pause.)

The saddest ones I have are made from two Trader Joe’s pre-boiled eggs (they come in a bag) that have been halved and filled with a combination of lumpy yolks, mayonnaise, [regretted] mustard, hot sauce, and finely chopped celery, and they’re eaten by the sink.

Photo via Flickr/jaycross