Antipasto Skewers

Clay finished his junior year with Bs and Cs, which is exactly what I expected and slightly less than what Connie hoped. Connie believes Clay is capable of As. I believe Clay is capable of anything he decides to care about, and so far he's decided to care about football and not much else, which is a problem that will solve itself when he's forty and realizes that geometry would have been useful, but which doesn't feel like a problem right now because he's sixteen and the world is simple and football is enough.

The defensive coordinator called me this week to talk about Clay's senior season. He said colleges are looking. Division II programs — schools in the OVC, the GLVC. He said if Clay has a big senior year, there could be a scholarship. A full scholarship. Room, board, tuition, the whole thing. For a Hensley kid. I hung up and sat in my truck for ten minutes, doing math in my head that had nothing to do with numbers and everything to do with the distance between a company house in Evarts and a college dorm. That distance. That impossible, beautiful distance.

But Clay also has the Army recruiter's card on his wall. He hasn't mentioned it again, but it's there, pinned next to his football schedule, and I've learned that when Clay pins something to his wall, it means he's thinking about it in the way that mountains think about weather — slowly, deeply, and with eventual consequence.

I made deviled eggs this week because it's May and deviled eggs are the food of every potluck, family gathering, and church supper from April through October. Betty's deviled eggs: hard-boil a dozen eggs (twelve minutes in boiling water, then ice bath). Halve them, scoop out the yolks. Mash the yolks with Duke's mayonnaise (two tablespoons per six yolks), yellow mustard (one teaspoon), sweet pickle relish (one teaspoon), salt, pepper. Pipe or spoon the filling back into the whites. Dust with paprika. That's it. That's the recipe. There is no variation. Betty makes them this way. Her mother made them this way. Deviation is heresy.

I brought deviled eggs to a neighborhood cookout on Saturday. One of Connie's coworkers hosts it every year. Sixty people. I knew about four of them. The deviled eggs were the first thing gone. A woman I'd never met told me they were "divine" and asked for the recipe, and I said it was my mother's and she said "Of course it is — the best ones always are." She's right. The best deviled eggs, the best fried chicken, the best cornbread — they're always someone's mother's, because mothers are the R&D department of American cooking and the rest of us are just manufacturing.

The deviled eggs were Betty’s recipe and always will be, but after watching a plate of sixty disappear in twenty minutes flat at that cookout, I started thinking about what else you can bring to a gathering of people you mostly don’t know that says “I showed up and I meant it.” These antipasto skewers are that—simple to assemble, easy to carry, and gone before you’ve finished your first beer. They’re the kind of thing you bring when you want to feed a crowd without standing over a stove, which is useful when your mind is busy doing math about scholarships and distances and all the places your kid might end up.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 12 skewers

Ingredients

12 wooden or bamboo skewers (6-inch)
12 slices Genoa salami, folded into quarters
12 small fresh mozzarella balls (ciliegine)
12 pitted Kalamata olives
12 marinated artichoke hearts, drained
12 cherry tomatoes
12 fresh basil leaves
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Instructions

Prep the drizzle. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, red wine vinegar, oregano, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Set aside.
Assemble the skewers. Thread each skewer in this order: folded salami, basil leaf, mozzarella ball, artichoke heart, olive, cherry tomato. Press gently so everything holds but nothing splits.
Drizzle and season. Arrange skewers on a platter or sheet pan. Drizzle evenly with the olive oil mixture. Season with a final crack of black pepper.
Chill until serving. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes or up to 4 hours. The flavors improve as they sit. Serve cold or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Antipasto Skewers — The First Thing Gone at the Cookout