Sunday Was Here

Since it's February in Chicago, that means today A.) started out as gray and B.) seems to be ending in a wet snowstorm which promises to provide us with a sloppy blanket of grayish snow by morning. Mmm. This kind of cruel weather leaves me pacing around the house, trying to focus on something, anything, while stopping by the window every two seconds to see if it has stopped being gray yet. Granted, this past week was beautiful -- lots of sun, mild temperatures that did not require mittens, and I was able to see all this from my window at work. I am thankful to sit near these immense windows all day, semi-exposing me to the outside world, but it is also a bit of a tease. When the sun goes down at 2:00pm (okay, okay, so it's, like, 5:30), I feel terrible about myself, knowing that the only going-outside I've done all day is walk from my car into the building. But I digress.

So, Sunday tossed me about in this sea of listlessness, and finally I got so fed up with myself that I created an action plan (okay, so it was a list of errands, actually) and I headed out to accomplish great things. I made my way out to the suburbs (first mistake) to take care of some business (um, it was just Half Price Books, not something cool, like mafia stuff) and then stopped at Lowe's (which, in case you are wondering, there's no such thing as "stopping at Lowe's" on a Sunday), which took approximately eighteen hours. Really? Are there actually three hundred other people who need light bulbs at the exact same minute as me? Apparently so.

Then, I end up at the Whole Foods, where I actually find a parking space (!) and wherein I manage to establish a ridiculous "plan," which entails no basket or cart. You see, I only needed THREE items. Three. So, who needs carrying contraption for only three items? Well, when it turns out to be fifteen items, ME, that's who. Ugh, my balancing act was not very becoming. I did manage to gather this very, very beautiful chocolate bar, though, direct from, um, Iceland. Iceland! You know, where all the best chocolate is born. I will use it to make birthday cookies this week, and I will let you know all about it.

I eventually ended up back at home, mangled and starving, and, since I felt like I had lost so much of the day to traffic and human congestion, I went into overdrive, which was actually quite nice. Better than contemplating the grayness of the sky and the wetness of the rooftops, anyway. I managed to do some normal Sunday things, like vacuum, watch the Olympics, and talk to my mom on the phone, and then I proceeded to create the strangest assortment of foods, ever. I won't spoil the surprise by telling you about it all right now (I can't imagine either of us feels like plodding through six recipes right now), but I am going to tell you very soon about the best part. I cooked some sorts of foods that are intended to be lunches for this week, and then, all of a sudden, it was 10:00 and I hadn't actually eaten any of the things that I'd made, or anything, for that matter. I tend to forget all too often that you can actually stop to eat. But that's not the best part.

The best part of this story is that I had egg salad for dinner. Okay, I know that it's not all that odd to eat egg salad for dinner, but for some reason it amuses me a great deal. It is a thing that I didn't eat when I was growing up, perhaps simply because I was scared of it. Wait. I made that up. I wasn't scared of it. I think it just wasn't around. I definitely didn't feel sad about it at all, in the same way I didn't feel sad about not eating oysters or liver or kohlrabi. I just never thought about egg salad. I do remember deviled eggs appearing every once in awhile, but rarely egg salad. (This will be hysterical if my mother's response is that she actually tried and tried to get me to eat egg salad and I simply don't remember it.) According to my semi-reliable memory, though, I didn't even eat egg salad until I was an adult, so my love for it is actually quite new. I'm still in that falling-for-you, schmoopy, melty love phase. Me and egg salad. Together again, for the very first time. And, in case you were curious, we are very, very happy together.

Egg Salad
not just good for picnics

6 hard boiled eggs
3 T sweet pickle relish
3 T sour cream
3 T mustard (again, I love the Brownwood Farms Kream Mustard)
salt & pepper

Cut up the eggs however you like. (I know that some folks like to sort of mash 'em up, but I like them coarsely chopped.) Put them in a bowl and add the rest of the ingredients. Add salt and pepper to taste. Put the egg salad on good, thick toast and serve open-faced.

Sort of important notes:
You can use mayonnaise if you want, but I find it too cloying, heavy, and, well, eggy. I like for the eggs to be the egg-star, so I use sour cream. I opt for sweet pickle relish (you probably coulda guessed), but feel free to use dill pickle relish instead. As far as the mustard goes, you can use another kind of mustard, but cut the amount in half if you're using a stronger, less sweet mustard. Beyond that, just adjust the amounts of things to your liking. You can use more eggs, or less, and you can add finely sliced scallions of you like things a little oniony. I seem to like my egg salad sort of sweet, but I know some traditionalists swear by mayo and salt only. Whichever way you make it, just be sure to have some really good bread on hand, because really good bread makes for really good toast. And there's something so utterly perfect about the crunch of toast and the silkiness of the eggs. It's also not too bad on top of crackers at midnight, right after you finish writing all about it.