Pesto Egg Salad Sandwiches

Hurricane season. The Gulf is watched. Anatomy lab three days this week. The cadaver work is what they say it is. I am holding up.

Drove to Baker Saturday morning. MawMaw Shirley was at the stove already. We made gumbo. Thirty-five minutes of roux. The lesson keeps unfolding. Jamal called from Houston. The logistics job is good. He is good.

Shrimp creole Tuesday. Trinity, tomato, shrimp. Rice underneath.

Darius stirred the pot for me Sunday. Thirty-five minutes. He has learned.

Anatomy lab three days this week. The cadaver work is what they say it is — not gross, not romantic, just human. I went home after Friday lab and made gumbo because the only thing that quiets the body after a day in the lab is the slow stir of a roux.

Reading something light at night. A novel by a Louisiana writer. The voice was familiar. The voice was home. The book ended on a small kindness. I appreciated that.

I went to the gym Tuesday and Thursday this week. Twenty minutes on the treadmill. Standard. The body is the only equipment I have for the rest of my life and I am trying to maintain it.

Tanya brought a casserole over Wednesday. The Tanya casserole. Half went into the freezer. The other half fed me Wednesday and Thursday. Mama's casseroles are the silent backup of my entire adult life.

I drove past the gas station where DeAndre died. I do not stop. I do not avoid it either. The drive past is the drive past. He is twenty-eight in my head. He stays twenty-eight.

Sunday service at Bethany. The choir sang. The pastor preached on Hannah and Samuel. I sat with Tanya and Marcus. The hymn at the end was the one Mama used to hum. I cried into the bulletin. Standard.

I sat on the porch Saturday afternoon with iced tea. The neighbor's kids were playing kickball. The Louisiana evening is its own kind of Sabbath. The cicadas were starting up. The light was the gold-going-blue light of the southern dusk.

I sent MawMaw a photo of my gumbo Tuesday. She replied, "too light, baby, keep stirring." She has not changed the critique in twelve years. The critique is the love.

The apartment kitchen is small but it cooks. Two burners. One pot. A cutting board balanced on the counter because the counter is too small for both the cutting board and the toaster.

Tanya's tomatoes were in this week. She brought a sack. I made a sandwich for lunch every day for four days. Heirloom tomato, white bread, mayo, salt. The summer lunch. The simplest pleasure of summer.

DeAndre's birthday came around again. I made his favorite — andouille and chicken in brown gravy. I ate two bowls. I called Aunt Renee. We did not say much. We did not need to. The food was the saying.

Daddy sent me an Amazon receipt accidentally Sunday. He bought a power tool I do not understand. Standard. He texted twenty minutes later, "wrong thread, sorry baby." I told him don't worry about it. He said thank you. The exchange was the exchange.

Daddy called Sunday afternoon. He is sixty-something and his knees are still bad and he still has not gotten the second one replaced. I am working on him. He is working on me to stop working on him. We are at an impasse. The impasse is the love.

Friday night Darius and I watched a movie I have already forgotten. We fell asleep on the couch by ten. The dog (we got a dog last year, did I mention) slept between us. Standard.

Tanya’s tomatoes this week reminded me that summer has a specific language—one that doesn’t require much. White bread, mayo, salt. That was enough. But on the days when I wanted something a little more put-together without spending any more energy than I had left after lab, this pesto egg salad sandwich became my answer: fast, herby, satisfying in the way only a proper lunch can be when everything else is heavy.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 22 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

8 large eggs
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons prepared basil pesto
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 green onions, thinly sliced
8 slices sandwich bread (white, sourdough, or whole wheat)
4 leaves romaine or butter lettuce
1 large ripe tomato, sliced (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 full boil over medium-high heat, then remove from heat, cover, and let sit for 11–12 minutes.
Cool and peel. Transfer eggs to a bowl of ice water and let cool for at least 5 minutes. Peel and roughly chop.
Mix the egg salad. In a medium bowl, combine the chopped eggs, mayonnaise, pesto, and Dijon mustard. Stir until creamy but still slightly chunky. Season with salt and pepper. Fold in the sliced green onions.
Assemble the sandwiches. Lay out 4 slices of bread. Place a lettuce leaf on each, then spoon a generous portion of egg salad over the lettuce. Add tomato slices if using. Top with the remaining bread slices.
Serve. Cut sandwiches in half and serve immediately, or wrap tightly and refrigerate for up to 4 hours.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pesto Egg Salad Sandwiches — The Simple Lunch That Holds the Summer