I know what you’re thinking–death eggs? That’s my nickname for deviled eggs. You see, I don’t like deviled eggs. At all. I can’t imagine how they got invented. Was someone sitting around thinking “hmmm…you know, this boiled egg needs some mayonnaise and mustard added to it, and while I’m at it, I think I’ll add a little sugar and vinegar, too”? Yuck. But, I digress. Back to how my nickname came about.
I don’t know if it’s a southern thing, but around here when someone dies people bring food. I suppose it’s because there’s no good way to ease the family’s grief, but we can at least feed them. Plus, all the folks visiting the grieving family have to eat. Our church typically cooks for the families of the church when someone passes away. Several years ago I got a call from the lady who organizes the dinners, asking me to make deviled eggs. I had never made deviled eggs in my life, but, of course, being a young wife and mother I was expected to know how to cook such things. I felt bad telling her I had never made them, so I went in search for an easy recipe and gave it a whirl.
Apparently the deviled eggs turned out okay because that became my dish to make whenever there was a funeral. Since I never fixed the eggs otherwise, I made the statement that my kids would associate deviled eggs with death. Hence, the name “death eggs”. These are super-simple to make.
- 12 hard boiled eggs, peeled and cut in half lengthwise
- approx. 4 Tbsp. mayo
- 1 Tbsp. mustard
- 2 Tbsp. sugar
- 1 Tbsp. white vinegar
- salt and pepper
- paprika, for garnish
Place the hard boiled egg yolks in a bowl and mash with a fork until they are a powder-like consistency.
Add the remaining ingredients and mix well. If the yolk mixture seems a little too dry, add a little more mayo. Spoon the egg yolk mixture into the egg white halves. Sprinkle with paprika. Refrigerate.
Forgive the somewhat dark pictures. I made these last night and my kitchen doesn’t have the best picture-taking light. These eggs were for a funeral. Last night we said goodbye to a wonderful lady in our church. She was sweet, loving, and had a mind of her own! When she put her hand on her hip or pointed her finger at you and talked, you listened. And obeyed! She was good at giving orders, but she was such a good-natured person it was impossible to take offense. Her smile was contagious and a bit mischievous. She was the type of Christian lady we should strive to be–and the type of lady we should raise our daughters to be.
Although we take comfort in the fact that she is no longer suffering, Ms. Shirley will be greatly missed!