I’m a sucker for crappy Richard Gere movies. Must Love Dogs? Yes, yes I do, and my beagle is living, non-rented proof. The remake of Shall We Dance? I’d love to, Richard, even though that plot and script were just awful.
But as I prepare for my own wedding – a stressful thing, despite Walker’s and my best efforts – I find myself gravitating to equally bad movies like Runaway Bride, in which Julia Roberts is running away from her fourth wedding, and ran straight into Richard Gere’s arms.
There’s a scene where he’s giving her a lecture about not knowing what she wants and he makes a point by asking her what kind of eggs she likes. Turns out, she doesn’t know, she just eats the type of eggs her fiancé du jour likes.
Well if Richard Gere ever asked me what kind of eggs I liked, the answer would most definitively be: scrambled. Rubbery egg whites gross me out in a very big way. That’s why I’ve always found deviled eggs a little intimidating. In theory, they should be great – flavors that I love in any other circumstance, all pulled together – but that first bite into the egg, where the whole bite is overpoweringly rubbery really put me off the whole thing for a very long time.
That, and an experience I had when Walker’s sister and I were in the kitchen together, making deviled eggs for a party his mother was having. There were what felt like a billion very hot eggs to be pealed, and I thought to myself, so tedious for just three little bites.
Just when I thought that I would never ever be able to enjoy a deviled egg, I saw the most beautiful little quail eggs at the wet market. Surely those little things have a smaller yolk to white ratio, I thought. And even if they don’t, surely taking the whole half a quail egg in one bite would neither feel like a mouthful of rubbery whites nor would it make me look like an overfed chipmunk, storing food in its cheeks for later.
With a brunch to attend, I decided these quail eggs were the perfect eggs to attempt deviling. They also have a deeper flavor than your basic hen’s egg – a little muskier somehow. And much to my elation, they also had a smaller white-to-yolk ratio! So yes, they were slightly a pain to make, but only exactly as much as normal deviled eggs are. And yes there are fewer of them on a platter for the same amount of work, but sometimes miniature sized food is just worth it. They’re just too cute, and far too delicious.
Deviled Quail Eggs
Adapted heavily from March 2008 Parade
20 quail eggs
1 1/2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
A healthy pinch of paprika, to taste
Salt, to taste
1 tablespoon snipped fresh chives
1. Rinse the eggs under warm water. Place in a saucepan and cover with cold salted water. Bring to a boil and cook for 4 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water and peel. Pat dry.
2. Cut the eggs in half lengthwise. Scoop out the yolks with a very small spoon into a bowl; mash. Mix with mayonnaise, mustard, paprika and salt. Carefully fill the whites with the yolk mixture (I piped it in with a pastry bag). Sprinkle with more paprika and chives and arrange on a decorative tray.