There’s No Excuse for Three Deviled Eggs

My father recently spent some time with me in Asheville—he volunteered to drive the 10 hours back from PA with me the Sunday after Thanksgiving and stayed for two nights before flying back home. It was a great visit— I truly love my new home down here in Asheville but miss my family. In preparation for his visit, I asked my father what kind of meal he wanted, and since he allegedly doesn’t eat much red meat anymore, he said he’d like to treat himself to a really nice steak dinner. I used this as an excuse to book us a table at Bone and Broth, which had been high on my list of places to try.

I typically have a policy to not name establishments where I have mediocre food or a lackluster experience—so much of that is subjective, and this isn’t Yelp, but I’m making this exception here for two reasons:

1. Bone and Broth is well established, well-beloved, and won’t be negatively effected by one blogger with 16 followers picking one quibble with his otherwise excellent experience there. 
2. My experience at bone and broth, except for one quibble, was excellent and there are approximately eight things I’d like to try on subsequent visits (including, naturally the bone broth)—the herb butter that came with our sourdough bread appetizer was legitimately worth the price of admission alone. 

My quibble? They served two men three deviled eggs.

I was firmly anti-deviled eggs for most of my life—I claimed it was a texture thing, but I think at some point I arbitrarily decided I didn’t like them and that was that—but much like the mustard added to deviled eggs that I was also arbitrarily against for much of my life, I’m now an enthusiastic fan (though I remain concerned about how my newfound love of deviled eggs parallels their trendiness at a certain type of industrial-chic establishments).

Eggs are infamously cheap. I know the increasingly trendy accouterments added to deviled eggs (I believe that Bone and Broth deviled eggs had candied bacon atop them) can be pricy, but we’re still talking about eggs–in 2020, the retail price for a dozen eggs was $1.48. $1.48! Now, I’m not going to complain about the upcharge involved for a restaurant appetizer. I’m paying for the experience and the cook’s talent, but why only three? Three fritters? Sure. Three shrimp? I’m mad but fine. Three deviled eggs? It takes at least two full eggs to make three deviled eggs, so why not just include that fourth half, and while we’re at it, why do odd numbers for shared plates to begin with!  My father and I are easily a combined 400 lbs. You know what’s belittling? The two of us sawing a third deviled egg in half to split. 

That’s all I got. I’ll be back Bone and Broth, but restauranteurs, chefs, delicatessens, and food trucks of Asheville, nay, the world, please rectify the situation if you’ve thought it appropriate to serve only three deviled eggs as part of an appetizer in the past. It’s not right.