March 25, 2005
I stared longingly at the barren shelves of my refrigerator and reviewed my current state of rationing.There was a 12 pack of Miller Light, losta condiments, a tub of whipped butter, an apple and four eggs. Although I once had an ex boyfriend liken one can of beer to the nutritional value of one pork chop, I wasn't sure that I wanted to turn down that road of desperation. The Three Cheese and Mushroom Spaghetti sauce had fuzzy, green lumpy things growing on top and the tub of Country Crock wasn't going to do much good without any bread, chips or corn (unless, of course, you want to get really funky).
The lone apple looked rather questionable, too, and as my dear mother always says, "When in doubt, throw it out."
That left the eggs.
Now, mind you, in the last two weeks, I have consumed every meal possible, real or imagined, that could possibly contain Grade A Large eggs. Last week, I had some scrambled eggs with cheese and salsa. I tried my palate with a few half assed, hard boiled eggs which made for a slightly oozy egg salad sandwich and, during the weekend, I made myself some eggs over easy which were accompanied by a side dish of sliced avocados. This was all grand, but there's only so much a person can take of a diet strictly made of eggs and I am not, obviously, much of a cook.
Well, whatever. Anyone up for some Deviled Eggs?!
I grabbed the remaining four eggs out of the refrigerator and carefully hard boiled them according to my mother's 'fail proof' instructions. After they cooled and were ready to peel, I realized that I had not added enough salt into the water as normal peeling time dragged on well past fifteen minutes. There I was, stooped over the damned garbage can and cursing this ridiculous idea as my neck stiffened into a tangled mass of HOLY CHRIST, THIS SUCKS!
I placed my mother's gift of the Joy of Cooking cookbook onto the floor and began to rampantly stomp upon the misleading title before referring to the simplistic instructions for Deviled Eggs (which is, on the other hand, NOT misleading). Alright, so I had about a teaspoon of mayonnaise left in the jar, three different types of mustard in the door of the fridge which were all turned upside down as though to proclaim their scarce contents and not a drop of vinegar.
Paprika, you say? HA! Paprika is not in my dictionary of edible foods. Paprika does not really even add flavor. And, in all honesty, I'm not fucking Martha Stewart here people.
Side Note: That last statement could be taken in a couple of different ways, but we shall not go there today...
So then I learned that one does not have to dig out the yokes from an egg with an oversized spoon. All one really needs to do is gently squeeze the yolk out of its white casing and place it into a small bowl. Might I take a moment to stress the word 'gently,' as you will be rather disappointed to find that your precious egg yolk has been shot across the kitchen, heard to land on the kitchen table and is next being consumed by two massive fur balls more commonly known as starving house cats.
Now, you must act quickly and apply the Five Second Rule to your feline ridden yolk and place it into a bowl along with a happy little mixture of mayonnaise, mustard and, if you're special, vinegar. Mash it up and it's ready to go into your halved eggs.
At that point, I also learned that it is very beneficial to hold on to those nifty cardboard egg cartons, unless you're related to Julia Child and happen to have a deviled egg server at your disposal, as you will otherwise find the task of placing your yolk mixture into your halved eggs nearly impossible. A mere plate with not, to your surprise, do the trick. I thought of digging the carton out of the garbage until at last I realized I had taken a good portion of my trash out to the dumpster in order to create a more uniform path to my apartment door. It was sad moment in Laura Land...
I took a break to ponder over the severity of this dilemma by pouring myself a drink and that is when the brilliant idea struck me. The ice cube tray! By golly, wouldn't Momma be proud!? I quickly emptied the ice cubes into the sink and began preparing my eggs with a new found ease, praising myself at every possible interval which only elongated this already time consuming project. And, alas, I now had only to consume this gourmet wonder.
Side Note: This is where the beer comes in rather handy since you no longer have any ice cubes which are an absolute necessity to any good mixed drink.
The funny thing is, after one Captain and Coke and a half can of Miller Light, I am no longer ravished with hunger.
Guess the application of beer over pork chop somehow fits after all...