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Eggs mashed with good mayonnaise and a streak of English mustard, buried under a tangle of peppery cress. The kind of lunch that needs no explanation and no apology.
Cress in a punnet. Eggs in a bowl. This is the most British lunch I know how to make, and I mean that as the highest compliment.
There is nothing clever about egg mayonnaise. That's its virtue. You boil eggs, you mash them with a fork, you stir through enough mayonnaise to make them rich and enough mustard to make them interesting, and you pile cress on top until it looks like a small green hedge. It takes ten minutes. It feeds you properly. It tastes like a Tuesday afternoon in a kitchen where someone is paying attention.
I come back to this whenever the fridge is bare and the shops feel like too much effort. Four eggs, a jar of mayonnaise, a punnet of cress from the corner shop. We're only making lunch. But a good egg mayonnaise, made with decent eggs and real attention to the seasoning, is a quietly splendid thing. I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: eggs, mustard, cress, Wednesday. That was enough to bring it all back.
The cress matters more than you think. Without it, you have egg mayonnaise, pleasant and pale. With it, you have something that bites back, the peppery sharpness cutting through all that richness like a sharp word in a quiet room. Buy it in the punnet. Snip it with scissors. Be generous.
Quantity
4 large
Quantity
3 tablespoons
homemade if you have it
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
a squeeze
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
1 punnet
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| free-range eggs | 4 large |
| good mayonnaisehomemade if you have it | 3 tablespoons |
| English mustard | 1 teaspoon |
| lemon juice | a squeeze |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| garden cress | 1 punnet |
| good bread | for serving |
Lower the eggs gently into a pan of boiling water. Not simmering. Boiling. Set a timer for nine minutes if you want the yolk just set with a faintly golden centre, ten if you want it fully cooked through. I like nine. The yolk stays a shade softer, a little more generous when it meets the mayonnaise. When the time is up, drain the eggs and run them under cold water until you can hold them comfortably. Peel while still warm. They're kinder that way.
Put the peeled eggs in a bowl and break them up with a fork. Not too fine. You want some texture here, pieces of white you can see and bite through, the yolk crumbled but not paste. Egg mayonnaise that has been blitzed smooth has lost its character. Keep it rough. Keep it honest.
Add the mayonnaise and the mustard. Fold it through gently. The mustard should be English, the hot kind, and a teaspoon is enough to put a quiet warmth behind the richness without announcing itself. A squeeze of lemon juice lifts the whole thing. Season with salt and pepper. Taste it. If it needs more of anything, add more of it. Your kitchen, your rules.
Spoon the egg mayonnaise onto good bread, or pile it into a bowl, or spread it between two slices of soft white and call it a sandwich. Cut the cress from the punnet with scissors and scatter it generously over the top. The peppery bite of the cress against the cool, rich egg is the whole point. Don't be shy with it. Eat immediately, standing at the counter or sitting at the table. Both are equally valid.
1 serving (about 200g)
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