By The last Hanukkah night — eight candles, full menorah, the room blazing with forty-four points of flame. I stood in front of the menorah alone — Marvin in his chair, the house quiet — and I said the blessings for the last time in this configuration: me and Marvin and the menorah in the dining room of the Oceanside house. Next year the menorah will be here but Marvin will not. Next year I will light the candles alone, in a house for one, and the aloneness will be the cost, and the cost will be the price of the right decision, and the right decision will not feel right, not then, not ever, but it will be right, and the rightness is what I hold on to when everything else is letting go.
New Year's Eve. Marvin fell asleep at eight. I sat in the kitchen with a glass of wine and the radio and the last hours of 2022 and I thought about what this year held: the retirement, the writing, the grandchildren growing, the facilities visited, the decision made. The year took teaching and gave me writing. The year took the classroom and gave me the kitchen full-time. The year took my denial and gave me acceptance, and acceptance is not a gift I wanted but a gift I needed, and the needing is enough.
I made brisket for New Year's Day. The constant. The anchor. The thing that does not change. Six hours at low heat. Onions. Garlic. Tomatoes. Broth. The recipe that is Sylvia's and mine and whoever comes next. The brisket is the prayer. The brisket is the chain. The brisket is the thing I will bring to Cedarhurst in a container, every day, because the brisket goes where Marvin goes, because the brisket is the love, and the love goes everywhere.
The brisket was already in the oven by the time I thought about what else the table needed — and it is always the deviled eggs, the ones with a little horseradish folded in, the ones that have a bite to them the way the holidays themselves do this year. Sylvia used to make them alongside the brisket every time, and I have carried that forward without ever deciding to, the way you carry forward most things that matter. If the brisket is the prayer, these eggs are the response — small, bright, something you can hold in one hand while you figure out what comes next.
Horseradish Deviled Eggs
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 32 minutes | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 6 large eggs
- 3 tablespoons mayonnaise
- 1 tablespoon prepared horseradish, drained
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon white wine vinegar
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
- Paprika, for garnish
- Fresh chives, thinly sliced, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Hard-boil the eggs. Place eggs in a single layer in a saucepan and cover with cold water by 1 inch. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then remove from heat, cover, and let sit for 12 minutes.
- Cool and peel. Transfer eggs to a bowl of ice water and let cool for at least 5 minutes. Peel carefully and pat dry.
- Halve and remove yolks. Slice each egg in half lengthwise. Pop the yolks into a medium bowl and arrange the whites on a serving platter.
- Make the filling. Mash the yolks with a fork until fine. Add the mayonnaise, horseradish, Dijon mustard, white wine vinegar, salt, and pepper. Stir until smooth and creamy. Taste and adjust horseradish or salt as needed.
- Fill the whites. Spoon or pipe the yolk mixture into each egg white half, mounding it slightly.
- Garnish and serve. Dust lightly with paprika and scatter chives over the top if using. Serve immediately or refrigerate, covered, for up to 24 hours.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 65 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 1g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 115mg