by Meredith Chilson
Photos by author

My mailbox is filling up with invitations to reunions and weddings and picnics. Retirement parties! Graduation celebrations! Memory making days, every one … and I think, “deviled eggs!!”

You see, out here where I live, most of these occasions are “bring a dish to pass” affairs. I have lots of eggs, so it’s an easy task to use my old 4-H recipe to make a plate of deviled eggs for a group. The basic recipe makes a dozen, but it’s easy to expand or decrease as needed.

Place them in a pan in a single layer (don’t stack them) and cover them with cold water. “Old” eggs will float—discard these; very fresh eggs will stay flat on the bottom of the pan. Bring the water quickly to a boil, remove the pan from heat, cover and leave them for 15 to 20 minutes (depending on size of the eggs—one recipe I’ve used says to set a timer for 17 minutes for regular size eggs and 20 for extra-large).Drain the hot water and place the eggs in a bowl of ice water, or run cold water over them to cool them. The idea is to stop the cooking and keep the yolks from getting a green tinge on the edges. I usually put the eggs back into the pan I’ve used to cook them in and run cold water over them for a minute or so, then put the cover back on the pan and shake them around a bit to crack the shells. A little more cool rinsing, and they should be ready to peel. I like to crunch up the discarded shells and add them to my compost.

Once the eggs are peeled, cut them in half length-wise, and slip out the yolk. Mash the yolks with (for 6 eggs) a shake or two of salt and pepper, about a teaspoon of yellow mustard and 2 tablespoons of salad dressing—just enough to moisten the filling. Scoop the filling back into the hollow of the egg white, shake a little paprika on top (or maybe some diced chives), and refrigerate the eggs until you are ready to serve them.

Now, why would I associate deviled eggs with memory making days? For one reason, my mother always took a plate of deviled eggs to family reunions and church picnics. I think of her when I’m shaking the paprika on top of the eggs, and when I’m adding the salt. The recipes that have come to me from my mother often say, “Add a dash of salt, paprika, pepper …”, so I always “dash” in the spices.

When I arrange the eggs, I think of Miss Anna Crandall. Miss Crandall was an older lady in our community when I was a young girl. She was a retired school teacher, part-time librarian, church clerk—everyone knew her. When I married, my husband was in the service, I was a college student and we needed everything: sheets, towels, kitchen utensils and appliances. Miss Crandall gave us a deviled egg plate. When we moved into our first tiny home, the egg plate stayed packed up; it wasn’t until some years later that I unpacked it and began to use it. By then, I had forgotten who had given us which of the household furnishings—but I remembered who had given us the egg plate. It’s not something that I use everyday—but it’s something I use every time I make deviled eggs—and I think of Miss Crandall each time: I remember her when I fill the platter.

My mother has a deviled egg platter, too. I remember seeing it at the church and family functions for years; it was a wedding gift to her (in 1941) from Miss Anna Crandall.

I think of these things as I mash the eggs, make the filling, and arrange the eggs just so. I have received invitations to a couple of summer weddings: I hope the newlyweds have the same fond memories of me 40 years from now when they are making deviled eggs for a gathering and placing them on the plate they’ve received for a wedding gift.