Now, living a life of a pseudo vegetarian can be… how shall I put it. A fucking nuisance? Not for me, no, no. I’m fine with being difficult. As in “Barbequed chicken? Where? Who? You! GIVE IT TO ME. I want some NOW.” The bit I feel most ashamed about is when I’m invited round for dinner and I have to check in with the cook beforehand, who’s lovingly prepared a 7 day roast for me, and tell him that I don’t really like “real” meat and that I’ll have sides, yes just sides, no don’t worry about me, I love peas. Meat is still very much a mood thing in the world of Watson. So when I’m alone, just me, myself and the kitchen, the menu will almost exclusively be rabbit food. Rabbits also have chocolate and crisps, they just don’t like to talk about it you know. Anyway. What I’m trying to get at is I do get protein cravings, as a normal human being should. And so I choose eggs. Fried, poached, but mainly scrambled, and ever since my last visit to Switzerland, in egg salad form.
The “incident” that got me hooked, was a small and rather insignificant one. But I have found that moments like these are ones that stay with you until you’re old and wrinkly, and those are the ones we like. And so I shall share it with you. Bern, the capital city of Switzerland, to refresh some memories out there, as small as it is, actually has its own airport. Belp airport. At the time of my visit, two of my closest friends were living Holland, so it was imperative that I go visit them – I had last seen them two years ago, on my last trip back home, and I will say this: two years is always too long. So back to Belp. My flight was at eleven o’clock, and I had arrived nice and early, as you would being Swiss, so I had plenty of time to kill. A book to read, a few mints to chew, but nothing to fill my empty tummy. I usually avoid buying food at airports, mainly because they are overpriced, but that day I felt like living dangerously. And besides, Swiss snacks are good. I opted for an egg salad roll at the kiosk, and once I had done paying I sat down at one of the silvery round tables and took a bite. It was perfect. So perfect. The crunchy crust of the fresh little bread roll, then its chewy interior, made complete with the creamy and slightly tangy, finely chopped egg salad. Pure quality.
I know I will never find anything that lives up to a memory like that, but I can still try, and tried I have. And I’m pretty happy with the result. I have a saying that if there’s anything I really like, I can eat it by the spoonful. This is another one of those recipes. Add or subtract toast, as you feel is necessary (unless you’re in Switzerland, then you must use bread. Any bread. You lucky bastard).
Serves 2 relatively greedy people
1 Tbsp sour cream
2 Tbsp good-quality mayonnaise
1 1/2 Tbsp seeded mustard
1 garlic clove, crushed
1 1/2 tsp vegetable stock powder
1 Tbsp parsley, finely chopped
1 Tbsp chives, finely chopped
lots of freshly ground black pepper
Fill up the kettle and let it boil. While it’s heating up, poke a little hole with a pin or a sharp pointy knife into the bottom of the eggs. This will ensure the air can escape when the egg cooks, preventing them from exploding. Place them in a small saucepan and cover with the just boiled water. Put on the heat and let them boil for 10 minutes. Remove from the heat, pour off the water and cover with cold water. Let sit until cool enough to handle. Peel those babies.
In a bowl, combine the rest of the ingredients. Chop the eggs as finely as you can or can be bothered to, and add to the mixture. Adjust the seasoning if need be. Delish.