The Fewdsletter: 'Wicked' Deviled Eggs
A twist on a simple classic — for a picnic, a potluck, or Pesach
There are two reasons why I’m writing about a Passover dish in the middle of May.
The first is that it seemed topical. Memorial Day marks the start of picnic season, that special time of year when you can show up to a potluck with a bowl that’s 30 percent mayonnaise and call it a salad. Among this genre of tangy summer sides, the deviled egg reigns supreme.
The second is that I wanted to preserve my recipe. In all my years of making wicked eggs, I’d always eyeballed the ingredients and improvised the seasonings — even as I inevitably vowed that this time I would take real measurements. (I know, shocking to hear that that’s how I cook.) Last month a friend asked me for the recipe in preparation for her seder, and I was embarrassed that I had nothing concrete to give her. So this year I documented my steps, and I figured I should publish them before I lost track of my notes.
One of the many Passover culinary traditions I’ve developed over the years is treating the seder plate like a Chopped basket: how many of the ritual ingredients can I integrate into a single dish? Sometimes this works, as in the “matz-stitsio” (pastitsio with matzoh instead of ziti) I made this year, with lamb and celery sauce and eggy béchamel. Sometimes it doesn’t, like when the flavors of ground lamb, caramelized apples, and custard proved too discorant for my “Haggadah strata.”
My most-enduring innovation was integrating horseradish, celery, and matzoh into deviled eggs. When I first told my Grandma Joanne about my concoction, she dubbed the recipe “wicked eggs,” after the misunderstood member of the symbolic Four Children for whom the Haggadah prescribes a jarringly stern approach.
The key to this recipe is using horseradish (the ritual maror, symbolizing the bitterness of oppression) as the predominant spice. Horseradish and mayonnaise are a great pairing; a prototype of this recipe simply used store-bought horseradish sauce. (It’s a sensible shortcut, though it’s harder to fine-tune the flavor, and it neuters the horseradish’s distinctive funk.) Horseradish adds acid and deeper bitter dimension to the heat, and gives the normally savory filling an almost-sour edge — there’s a dissonance in the first bite that you quickly start to crave.
The other symbolic supplements are natural pairings: celery (representing the renewal of spring) is a common addition to brighten up egg salad, and the crumbled matzoh (from the hasty exodus) simulates the crackers you may dip in it. Here their main purpose is texture, adding pleasant crunch to what is otherwise a pretty mushy bite.
“Wicked” Deviled Eggs
This elevated take on the simple classic makes a great party snack, whether served on a seder plate or at a picnic table. Makes 24 pieces.
Ingredients
12 hard-boiled eggs, peeled
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1-3 tbsp jarred prepared horseradish
2 tbsp paprika, plus more for garnish
1/4 cup celery, finely chopped (about one medium stalk)
salt, black pepper, hot sauce to taste
crushed matzoh or breadcrumbs, for garnish
Steps
Slice eggs in half lengthwise. Remove yolks and place in a large mixing bowl. Arrange the halved whites in a single layer on a plate or cutting board.
Add mayonnaise to yolks and mash together. Add 1 tbsp horseradish, the paprika, the celery, a dash of salt, a grind of black pepper, and a splash of hot sauce. Mix until well combined.
Taste yolk mixture and adjust horseradish and seasonings as needed.
Scoop mixture into a piping bag. Squirt into yolk cavities, filling about a half-inch above the height of the egg white.
Garnish with crushed matzoh or breadcrumbs and sprinkle with paprika. Serve cold.
Additional Tips
Our Instant Pot is the most-consistent and -foolproof hard-boiling method I’ve ever used. If you don’t have a pressure cooker, the start-from-room-temp approach is my next-best recommendation.
The right amount of horseradish will vary according to its potency and your taste for it. Start conservatively and add another teaspoon or two at a time until you approach the limits of your guests’ palates.
My Aunt Lois — whom I’ve written about before — would advise you to add schmaltz and gribenes to the yolk mixture, which takes these eggs to the next level in both taste and cholesterol. (You can read interpretations of her recipes for both schmaltz and egg salad in Michael Ruhlman’s The Book of Schmaltz: Love Song to a Forgotten Fat.)
You can make these ahead and keep them covered in the fridge, but the filling looks nicer and has better texture when the eggs are served fresh.
Saving this!!!
Red or white horseradish?