Americans know deviled eggs as something sweet and creamy, mayonnaise and mustard whipped into submission. The Italian version is another animal entirely. These are briny, punchy, assertive. The yolks are enriched with olive oil, not mayonnaise. The capers and anchovies do the work that Americans ask mustard to do.

The egg itself must be cooked correctly, which most cooks fail to do. An overcooked egg announces itself with a gray-green ring around the yolk and the sulfurous smell of failure. The yolk should be golden throughout, tender, with no chalkiness at the center. This requires attention, not guesswork.

These are antipasti, meant to be eaten with wine before a meal, not as the meal itself. They should be briny enough to make you want another sip, savory enough to wake up the appetite. What you keep out is as significant as what you put in: no sweetness, no creaminess, nothing that obscures the fundamental egg.