Growing up, my mother would religiously (pun somewhat intended) boil off a dozen eggs every year on Good Friday. We’d color them, put them in our Easter baskets, and come Monday morning, toss them all in the trash. Well, not quite all–I’d usually work up the courage to try one, gag, and vow to never subject myself to another and one of my brothers would inevitably hide a couple in my closet to be discovered later in the week.
Needless to say, we were not a hard-boiled egg family. I thought everyone one like us, I thought everyone realized just how disgusting hard-boiled eggs were. I didn’t realize plenty of people were raised loving egg salad sandwiches and most siblings would fight each over a deviled egg instead of seeing them as something only to be eaten on a dare.
A year or two ago, I made a conscious decision to give hard-boiled eggs an honest try. I cracked open my “America’s Test Kitchen” cookbook and taught myself the proper way to boil an egg. I started adding them to salads. At first, I found them challenging. Then I found them satisfying. I even started to crave them and, eventually, I came around to what used to be my worst nightmare: egg salad.
I’ve been really into brunch the past few weeks. Life has felt a bit frantic lately and carving out time for a leisurely morning meal on the weekends is a good way to make the day at least feel like it’s stretched out in front of you, even if the minute your plate is empty you’ve got to run off and go about other business.
One surefire way to determine the success of a recipe is to eat the dish every night for a week and if you find yourself craving more after it’s gone, you know you’ve got a winner. For instance, you know a batch of baked shells is worth sharing with the world (and by “the world” I mean my mother and the three other kind souls that read my blog) when you single-handedly take down three-quarters of the pan and, when they’re finally gone, you find yourself wishing for just one more dinner’s worth. Forgive me for a moment while I lament the fact that these little beauties will not be my dinner again tonight.
In a continued effort to simplify my life, spend less money, and wash fewer dishes, I came up with this recipe for roasted chicken thighs and radishes. And, of course, I’m always on a mission to eat well. I’m happy to say, this chicken covers all of my needs.