When I was a little girl, my mother would pack up us three girls once upon a random Tuesday, and take us visiting. As an Italian we have a large family where we even see fourth, fifth and sixth cousins on a regular basis. My favorite relative to visit as a girl was my dear, sweet little Great Aunt Helen. She was the sweetest, nicest, littlest, quintessentially-Italian woman. Every time we would go to her house she would prepare coffee out of her ancient percolator {heavily-creamed for us kids}, crunchy crunchy potatoes and her special-recipe deviled eggs. We lost her when I was still very young and, thus, I never had the chance to collect her recipe; but ever since those hot days sitting in her unair-conditioned yet incredibly welcoming kitchen, I wake up sometimes craving deviled eggs.
We recently got back from lovely North Carolina - a beautiful little lodge – where there wasn’t too much to do besides hike, drive, read …
Or eat! This was my breakfast one sunny morning. This dish is called ‘Hillbilly Benedict’.