Deviled Eggs -- The Simple Thing You Make When the Biggest Day Is Finally Over

Last week. My last week as a nurse at St. Mary's Medical Center, Duluth, Minnesota. Thirty-three years. Two days left. I worked Monday and Wednesday — twelve-hour shifts, full and busy, the oncology floor doing what it does: patients arriving, patients leaving, patients staying, the permanent river of human suffering and human hope that I've been standing in since 1985. Monday: I admitted a new patient. Sixty-four. Pancreatic cancer. His wife was with him, holding his hand, looking at me with the expression I've seen ten thousand times — the expression that says: fix this. Make this better. Tell me it's going to be okay. I don't lie to patients. But I don't take hope away either. I said, "We're going to take very good care of him." And I did. For twelve hours, I took very good care of him. Because that's what I do. That's what I've always done. Wednesday was my last shift. My colleagues knew. They'd been saying goodbye all month in the way hospital staff says goodbye — hugs in the break room, cards, a cake from the cafeteria that said "Happy Retirement Linda" in frosting. The charge nurse gave a speech. I did not give a speech because Johanssons don't give speeches. I thanked everyone. I said, "You're the best team I've ever worked with." I said, "Take care of each other." I said, "And check the medication cart twice. Always twice." I walked out of St. Mary's at seven-thirty PM on Wednesday, May 30. The parking lot was half empty. The sun was setting over the lake. I got in my car and I sat for five minutes and I cried. Not for me — for the work. For the patients I'll never meet. For the hands I'll never hold. For the bells that will ring without me there to hear them. Then I drove home. Paul was in his chair. Sven was at his feet. The kitchen light was on. I walked in and Paul said, "Welcome home, nurse." I said, "I'm not a nurse anymore." He said, "You'll always be a nurse, Linda. You're just changing patients." Changing patients. One patient now. The most important one. I made scrambled eggs because it was nine PM and I hadn't eaten since noon and eggs are what you eat when the day has been enormous and the body needs something simple. Eggs, toast, butter. Paul ate with me. We sat at the table at nine-thirty on a Wednesday night and ate scrambled eggs and the day was done and the career was done and the next chapter was starting. Thirty-three years. I don't know who I am without nursing. But I know who I am with Paul. And that will have to be enough. It is enough.

I wrote scrambled eggs that night, and that’s the truth — but the recipe I keep coming back to, the one that feels right for sharing, is deviled eggs. Eggs are eggs: simple, honest, the thing you reach for when the body needs feeding and the mind is somewhere else entirely. Deviled eggs are what I bring to every gathering at St. Mary’s, what my mother made, what Paul requests whenever I ask what he wants. After thirty-three years of taking care of other people, making a plate of deviled eggs for the two of us felt like the right way to start taking care of just us. Simple ingredients. No fuss. Exactly what the night called for.

Deviled Eggs

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 22 min | Servings: 12 deviled egg halves (6 servings)

Ingredients

• 6 large eggs
• 3 tablespoons mayonnaise
• 1 teaspoon yellow or Dijon mustard
• 1 teaspoon white wine vinegar or apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon black pepper
• Paprika, for garnish
• Fresh chives or parsley, finely chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

1. Hard boil the eggs. Place eggs in a single layer in a saucepan and cover with cold water by 1 inch. Bring to a full boil over medium-high heat, then cover, remove from heat, and let sit for 10–12 minutes.
2. Cool and peel. Transfer eggs to a bowl of ice water and let sit for at least 5 minutes. Peel carefully and pat dry.
3. Halve and remove yolks. Slice each egg in half lengthwise. Pop the yolks out into a small mixing bowl. Arrange the whites on a serving plate.
4. Make the filling. Mash the yolks thoroughly with a fork. Add mayonnaise, mustard, vinegar, salt, and pepper. Mix until completely smooth and creamy. Taste and adjust seasoning.
5. Fill the whites. Spoon or pipe the yolk mixture evenly into each egg white half. A small zip-lock bag with the corner snipped works perfectly if you don’t have a piping bag.
6. Garnish and serve. Dust lightly with paprika and scatter chopped chives or parsley over the top if using. Serve immediately or refrigerate covered for up to 24 hours.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 110 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 1g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 180mg