Monday 29th November 2011
“Come & try this Zeph.” I called from the kitchen.
When he eventually came to the door he sneered at what I had balances on the end of the spoon.
“What is it?” He enquirer.
“Egg mayo, try it.” I said thrusting it at him.
To which he did the old ‘pretend-to-retch’ number on me.
He struggles with eggs but I wanted to know if he liked it before I based my whole evening meal around it.
He edged towards his impending destiny & tentatively nibbled the end, all the while holding finger & thumb to his nose. Slowly his face turned from dislike to like.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“Mig mig.” He replied tipping his hand from side to side.
“Well tell me ‘cos I don’t want to make you a sandwich & you not eat it. D’you like it or not? Come on quick, yes or no” I said trying to get him to commit.
“Yeah ok, I’ll have it.” He finally said slightly more harassed than I had intended.
The humble egg mayonnaise sandwich has come in & out of my life with marked regularity. As as kid it was on every party table along with the obligatory cheese & ham, separately of course. On reflection, they were probably put there for the adults because the kids were more preoccupied with shouting about how much they stank to actually eat any.
Later, when I started full-time work, I spent pretty much a whole year having an egg mayo on brown as a late breakfast every day. I ate very badly as a vegetarian & figured that as long as I was eating egg, something good was going into my body.
Then once I’d moved to Spain it became synonymous with British cuisine & so was firmly instated on my list of things-to-eat-from-the-homeland, from Marks & Spencer’s obviously.
I was inspired by Edible Tapestry, an incredible food blogger, who posted the recipe for the bread which looked so soft it was crying out to be filled with my gooey eggy mixture.
I make mine with hard boiled eggs, finely diced onion, a blob of English mustard, salt n’ pepper, thyme & of course Hellman’s mayonnaise.
We had this for dinner on Sunday night. The three of us sat in front of the tv & watched ‘Strictly Come Dancing’. Proper family viewing as I remember Sunday nights when I was s child.
“Start with that bit there.” I said to my son, Zephyrus, pointing him to the centre of the halved sandwich.
“Mmm.” He said never taking his eyes off the screen.