March Forward 2025
I think We Patriots in the States have solved the donkey’s years question:
The Chicken or The Egg?
I say, with no trepidation over the luck of the Irish, that The Chicken has won that battle.
About six years ago, when Dear Husband and I were residing in The Rental Dump, building our Dream House, I made an egg salad sandwich, ostensibly for myself, sometime in the late afternoon of a hot summer day.
Dear Husband came indoors from doing yard-work. He saw the lovely, sliced sandwich on a plate on the counter, and thanked me, profusely, for making him such a wonderful late lunch.
“It was for me,” I replied, “But you may have it.”
We shared the sandwich!
Back then, the cost of eggs wasn’t even a concern for most Americans. The cost of many basic products did not prompt a citizen to haul out the Credit Card to rack up some more debt to cover the nut on the cost of daily life in the USA!
The egg-salad sandwich was taken for granted, perhaps too much for granted, along with so many other fundamental commodities, and those precious intangibles, in our lives.
I shan’t take the eggs-travagance of an ovum for granted anymore!
Anytime that I make an egg-salad sandwich, that simple but scrumptious culinary delight, and the amiable apportionment between spouses, are recalled.
Usually, I pair this sandwich with a can of Progresso soup, Hearty Tomato, or Tomato Basil, sometimes Minestrone. I draw the line at making both soup and sandwich!
The Egg in America became the ultimate symbol of the corruption-orgy that went on from 2020-2025, but started decades ago. How many decades ago, I shudder to think.
The gobsmacked sense of spooky, creepy plundering of the National Purse is now the national-attitude, at least it is for us zealots who still believe in the U.S. Constitution, Bill of Rights, separation of powers, federalism, a fair deal, a square meal, and a chicken in every pot.
A few weeks ago, I asked Dear Husband to make some French toast for me because he makes it much better than I do. Truth to tell, I have a hard time working with the albumen, or egg white.
He lovingly served me the plate of French toast (which, unlike French fries, does have its origins in France). I took a few bites, and the usual flavor just wasn’t there. I added some salt, and the flavor got worse. I informed Dear Hubby that there’s something wrong with either the bread or the batter.
He took a bite, and informed me that it tastes salty.
“Of course it does, I just put salt on it to try to bring out some savor.”
To make a very long story, short, it turns out that the yolks, in that carton of eggs, were pale — a very wan beige nuance.
I investigated the range of colors of an egg yolk, and discovered that chickens that eat barley will produce the beige-ish center.
Dear Husband was very upset and disgusted by the cost of this carton of eggs, because his usual variety/brand was unavailable at the grocery store. I, however, was intrigued by this logical cause-and-effect, i.e., the color of the yolk is primarily determined by the diet of the hen laying the egg.
Hubby threw out the eggs. Considering the level of Scots-Irish in my mate, this enraged response was a bold act of defiance of the Scots credo, which has also been attributed to Benjamin Franklin: Waste Not, Want Not.
That Founding Father is rolling over in his grave!
My spouse promptly went out and procured 2 dozen eggs with nice big, dark yellow yolks. I’d advised him that he won’t know the color unless he breaks an egg, purely by accident, but he decided to take the chance of a blind-yolk-buy.
He simply loves looking at the rich, golden color of this nutrient-bearing core whose primary function is feeding the developing embryo.
And while Dear Hubby might think, the more embryo, the better, I’m rather finicky when it comes to how much of the dry yellow stuff to include in the salad. I prefer to remove a certain proportion to create what I think is a more palatable balance between the white and the gold in this repast.
Ingredients:
6 hard-boiled eggs
Non-GMO mayonnaise
Smooth French mustard
2 sweet pickles, chopped finely
Salt & pepper
Start with 6 hard-boiled eggs that have been chilled in the frig for several hours. Usually, only 4-5 are worthy of the salad, so I make an allowance for back-ups.
Peel the eggs, under running cold water. Place in ceramic bowl. Chop into chunks, or slivers, depending on how diced you like your eggs. I prefer larger pieces for the dressing to adhere to. It’s at this point that I remove a few of the yolk blobs.
Add at least 3 tbsp. of the mayo atop the cut-up eggs. Some folks like a Cool-Whip-type dressing, others a sparse coating. My choice is somewhere in between the two extremes.
Toss in 1-2 tsp. of the mustard. I’ve tried the grainy variety but the texture is wrong.
Chop the pickles. Normally, I use only 2, but you may need additional pickles to get any previously calibrated proportion.
The past 4 years brought to Americans price hikes and shrink-flation. We’ve experienced the reduction of the size of just about everything, including our ability to tolerate the inevitable consequences of the secret money-orgies engaged in by the Swinish Ruling Class.
Stir gently. Do not whip these integral parts in a frenzy!
I understand that you may need to vent your patriotic pent-up emotions over the DOGE audit of the Pentagon and Fort Knox whilst cooking (and we haven’t even gotten to the truly bottomless pit known as Medicare). I therefore suggest producing a nice, big pot of home-made minestrone soup. The required chopping works wonders!
You may need to add more mayo or mustard, to taste for your ideal sandwich. Once the mixture has been made to meet your palate’s expectations, cover the bowl. Refrigerate for at least one hour.
Serve the sandwich on whole wheat bread, alongside the soup of your choice!