PINK!!! Deviled Eggs


Do not attempt to adjust your set. The colors in this post are true. It really is that PINK. The surface it is sitting on is actually blue.

So I mentioned that we recently discovered pickled eggs and promised you pictures. We bought some high quality large (not extra large or jumbo) eggs from the local grocery store. We let them sit in the refrigerator for about a week and then boiled and peeled them. Fresh eggs are awesome for frying, not so awesome for boiling. Be patient. We pickled 16.

We started with three fresh beets which we wrapped tightly in aluminum foil and roasted for approximately an hour and a half. They should squish a little almost like a baked potato. Leave them wrapped and set them on the kitchen counter until they reach room temperature. At this point, we put them in the fridge overnight, but I’m pretty sure you could skip that.

I understand that you can use canned beets, but I liked starting with fresh. Your mileage may vary.

When you unwrap the beets, hold them over something because they will be juicy and that juice will stain. Once they are unwrapped, they should peel easily. It will just slip off. Again, be very careful not to drip it on your pants or shoes. Cut them into smallish chunks. They will go in the jar with the eggs.

The construction of the jar should be some boiled peeled eggs, some roasted beets, some garlic, more eggs, etc. Just keep it mixed up. We also added some dried dill weed.

Like with any pickle process, bring your salt and vinegar mixture to a boil, then pour it into the jar. Place the lid and ring and let it sit on the counter until it reaches room temperature. the lid will very likely pop, but since this is a very low acid recipe, you cannot make it safely shelf stable without a pressure canner. It’s alright, we’re going to eat them soon. Once they reach room temperature, stick them in the refrigerator. Leave them no less than four days. Ours sat for ten. Ten days allows for the color to really penetrate the eggs. Which makes them come out of the jar looking like this.


That color? It goes all the way to the yolk


You can eat them just like this and they are delicious. We may have sampled one. Maybe.

Drop your yolks into a bowl and set your halves up for filling.


For deviled eggs, I like for my creamy ingredients to be a generous third of the volume of the yolks. Most of that should be honest to goodness mayonnaise. Miracle Whip is an abomination and if you try and substitute it, I don’t think we can be friends anymore. My feelings on Miracle Whip can be summed up here. The rest is ranch dressing. I know, bear with me. Maybe that’s the native Okie. For my dry ingredients, I use a few good clumps of mustard powder and some cracked pepper. (I really like to go ahead and add some wasabi powder here, but I knew there were people I would be serving them to that can’t rock the wasabi). We’d normally add salt to deviled eggs, but the pickled eggs are plenty salty enough already.


Mix the filling until it looks like you are going to ice a pretty, pretty princess cake. It helps to put it into a bag that you can use like a pastry bag for egg filling.


Garnish with some bacon. Because bacon.


You can even put a little dollop of wasabi on the tops of some of them as in the first picture. And then you just might want to lick the bowl clean.


And there you have it. Hot pink deviled eggs.

Sunday, Puppy Sunday

Yeah, totally stealing Phlegmfatale‘s schtick, but who could possibly resist that face?


Besides, this was the divine Ms. Phlegmmy’s couch. I can prove it. Here’s Heidi chillin’ with one of the regular Sunday, Puppy Sunday Stars, the one-and-only Praline


There exists a picture of all the dogs of the house, but since I’m obviously getting “the look” from the Alpha Dog Himself, I think I best keep that one to myself.

How To Tuesday Like Jennifer

Put on some four inch heels.

Add some wishful thinking

And then dash your own hopes by proving that the file cabinet is apparently not Jennifer proof.

Drive home in rush hour with smashed and swelling finger extended.


Because of course it would be that finger*.

Have a delicious dinner that pales in comparison to even more delightful company. Nothing better than embracing a good friend for the first time. Except maybe the gazillionth time because one can never overflow that particular cup. Share all the laughs and stories that make a tribal gathering great.

Finish the evening with a bourbon on the patio considering a jacket in July, completely forgetting to pull the evening’s pictures off of your camera. (See that link? Brigid has pictures up. Go see hers. No, I’m not really that tall. Remember the shoes?)

Open the windows to enjoy the unseasonably cool weather.

Yeah, it was a good day. I’m calling it a win.

*Didn’t break it. Just bruised it. Most of the swelling was gone by morning.


Oh Pickled Eggs!

Why did it take me so long to discover the deliciousness that is pickled quail eggs? You remember the eggs, right? So we pickled the last of the quail eggs. 50ish, I believe.

Yum! Absolutely perfect savory goodness. So good, in fact, that I haven’t paused between removing them from the jar and shoving them in my mouth to get you a picture.

Ok, so a couple may have taken a detour into a martini, but since there are no pictures, it didn’t happen. That’s what the internet told me. So obviously, since it didn’t happen, it must happen because the non existent martini was delicious.

There’s currently a jar of chicken eggs pickling with beets in the fridge because pink pickled deviled eggs must happen. Hopefully, I will be able to refrain from shoving them in my face long enough to get you a picture or two.

Best Thrift Store Find Ever

You know, I’ve made some pretty great thrift store finds, but my brother made the best one. And seeing as how there’s a no return policy, he married her yesterday. I even polished up my horns for the occasion. It’s not every day a girl gets a new sister, you know.

Congratulations, big brother. Here’s to many happy years!

The Intersection of Sports and Politics

I grew up as a not-exactly-white girl in Oklahoma, so naturally it was always assumed I must be Native American. No seriously, I had to explain to my second grade teacher** that Filipino* is, in fact, not a tribe. Still, I was assigned to wear the feathers in the school plays. They were very authentic, you know. Dark hair, olive complexion, kinda slanted eyes, no nose bridge-totally pass for one of them Red Men that call this state home. *eye roll*

The only thing worse than terrible stereotypes is being incorrectly cast as a pawn for someone else’s terrible stereotype. Close enough, right? Terrible stereotypes aside, they were at least making some effort at paying respect to the culture. I suppose it’s the thought that counts.

Don’t feel sorry for me here. I got to be on stage***. I wasn’t feeling especially ‘discriminated against’ at the time. The attention! It’s Mine! Precious….

Where was I going again?

Oh right! I was meandering around to find a tie into LabRat’s excellent piece on the brouhaha over some sportball team and their lamentable name and mascot. (And I got an excuse to work ‘brouhaha’ into a blog post.) She’s absolutely right, and I agree with every word. You’re going to have to go over there to read them for yourself.

No, there is no ‘white guilt’ at play here. Just an expectation that although people should have every right to be assholes, more would choose not to be.

*Yes, I do have a very little Native American heritage mixed into my proudly mutt pedigree, but it is far less than my red-haired, pale-skinned hubby has in his.

**She gave me a packet for my parents to fill out so I could ‘get on the rolls’ . 

***I also once played a squirrel with a speaking part. I said, “Look! Here come the ducks!” I lacked shame from an early age.

Trying Something New

Trying a new spam blocker thing. (This one, if you’re curious. It sounded entertaining.) Please let me know if you are unable to comment. If it is working correctly, you shouldn’t notice anything. If it catches a false positive, it might generate a sarcastic auto response. If you are a real person and get one, please send me an email and let me know.