It's Monday after Easter, and I have an egg hangover. I feel like a snake that slithered into the hen house, swallowed a dozen Grade A large and is now too fat to squeeze back through the chicken wire.
It started with standard-issue Saturday morning breakfast, which included some eggs. Then there was egg-dying. We colored about four dozen, just for the fun of it, and for dinner we made slightly fuschia-tinted and vinegary egg salad. Sunday morning we cracked open a few of the marblized green-and-yellow ones before Easter brunch, where someone had the sense of humor to serve deviled eggs, which we devoured in advance of the next egg hunt, where we gleaned no fewer than three dozen eggs--including one golden specimen--from a sprawling lawn of fluffy clover.
I have four dozen hard-boiled eggs in my refrigerator. Short of more egg salad, deviled eggs or a kedgeree (pictured above--thank you Naked Chef), what can I do?