A story about the disparaging difference of television-watching styles between the sexes and a delicious way to save all those dyed Easter eggs before they expire.
When I think about eggs – deviled eggs in particular – I inevitably think about two things. The first is Charlie Daniels’ The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Don’t ask me why. I have no earthly idea – well, other than the “devil” part. [And just on a personal note sidebar, I totally think that song deserves to be acknowledged as one of the original rap tunes in all of musical history. Kinda – in that sing-song style of story-telling.] Moving on – the second is the scene from Steel Magnolias when the Easter eggs get smashed in Truvy’s car trunk with angst-riddled gasps from the women. Every time I watch that bit, I shake my head wondering how many times they probably had to re-shoot that scene and I can only imagine the hundreds upon hundreds of hard-boiled eggs the prop stylist (or whatever the industry term is for that gig) must have dyed. Then, I wonder what in the world they did with all those cooked eggs after the shoot was wrapped. Please, Lord, tell me they made deviled egg salad sandwiches for everyone.
Speaking of Steel Magnolias, my husband has this thing now that I would like to share. As you all may know, Adam has exceedingly strong opinions about… well, everything, but particularly about specific movies – chick flicks first and foremost. In fact, he is seriously considering penning a new blog entitled, “Movies That Blow,” in which he will thoughtfully and thoroughly critique various feature films I like to watch that he deems subpar by addressing certain, serious deficiencies in said motion picture.
Here are a few sure-fire ways to give Adam a clinical case of cinematic eye rolls that will guarantee a movie will land on his Least Wanted List:
- Anything starring Meryl Streep, which is probably 90 percent of movies that have ever been made – so, yeah, that’ll keep him busy for a while.
- Anything with Julia Roberts in it. Okay, I’ll give him this one, but will admit that I will watch two of her movies if they’re on (I don’t count Steel Magnolias). Eat, Pray, Love, which Adam, that most righteous dude, so eloquently renamed Eat, Pray, Puke. But I’ll ONLY watch it for the Italy part because y’all know how much I love Italy. The other is My Best Friend’s Wedding – but ONLY for the Dionne Warwick scene at the Lobster Restaurant. Funny stuff.
- Excess of emotion and the glorification of it (do NOT mention Terms of Endearment to this man!), especially women crying for extensive periods of time. The most recent example is Something’s Gotta Give (I’m sorry – but it’s that beach house that makes that worth watching). After Diane Keaton’s character gets dumped by her lover, she wails about with uncontrollable sobbing for a good ten minutes. Watching out of the corner of my eye, I braced myself for Adam’s wrath. “Why would anyone…deliberately subject themselves to this?” he asks painfully. I thought – fingers crossed – that maybe, perhaps Mr. Nicholson’s appearance in the film could mitigate the crying parts. But not even Jack could save that one for my boy.
- Any movie based on a Nicholas Sparks novel – although he somehow miraculously managed to sit through The Notebook the other night (there was nothing else on, believe you me). But! As I found out the very next day, it was a total set-up. As we were driving to the market, he firmly announced the score by saying, “The Notebook, Cheryl…really?” I slink down in my seat as I look out the window…waiting for the terms. “That’s SIX Lakers game right there.” Payback. Big time.
So, you see, in order to avoid those steely glares that relay how pathetic I am for viewing a certain “offensive” movie, I have to watch them in secret. And I’ll even “hide” the evidence by immediately flipping the channel to something “acceptable” as soon as he walks into the room. Seriously, how sad is that?
In fairness, I should add that Adam is far less insistent than I am about “sharing the experience” when it comes to his kind of show. I can honestly say that he has never once asked me to watch South Park (why, for the love of God, why???), Dune, or that car show with the three British guys.
And then there’s my musical preferences – but that’s another conversation for another day when my strength has returned. Most likely, though, it will be next up on the chopping block on this phantom blog of his. He’ll probably call it “Tunes That Tank.” Meaning, tunes that I like and he thinks are awful. The Bee Gees and the Carpenter’s come to mind (don’t judge), but I’ll keep you posted.
There are few things in this world to me that are better than an egg salad sandwich. It’s childhood between two pieces of soft bread. At least that’s one thing Adam and I can agree on.
Deviled Egg Salad Sandwiches
- 8 large hard-boiled eggs, peeled and finely chopped
- ⅓ cup mayonnaise (plus extra for spreading on bread slices)
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 2 small celery stalks, finely chopped
- ¼ cup finely minced onion
- 3 tablespoons sweet pickle relish
- one (2-ounce) jar pimentos, drained, patted dry and chopped
- ¼ teaspoon celery seed
- 1 tablespoon fresh minced dill
- crushed red pepper flakes
- kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 8 slices good quality white bread
- In a bowl, gently mix together the eggs, mayonnaise, Dijon, celery, onion, pickle relish, pimentos, celery seed and dill. Season to taste with pepper flakes, salt and pepper.
- Spread 4 of the bread slices with a little mayonnaise. Spread equal amounts of the egg salad on the remaining 4 slices. Place the mayonnaise slices on top of the egg salad slices, cut in half and serve.
…from the Picture-Perfect kitchen:
Planning: A few pulses in a food processor quickly chops the eggs.
Product Purity: Almost all sweet pickle relishes contain high fructose corn syrup unless they’re kosher (like Mt. olive kosher dill relish), so check your labels.
Presentation: Although white bread is the norm for an egg salad sandwich, you can also sub whole wheat or even rye, as we did for the photo shoot. Part of the charm of an egg salad sandwich is how messy they are. I like to serve them lunch counter style wrapped in wax paper with a pickle spear or two.