Hollandse Eiersalade

In my grandmother's second notebook, eiersalade appears in the margin, not as a grand recipe but as a rescue operation. Too many Easter eggs, a jar of mayonnaise, a spoon of mustard, chives from the kitchen window. That was enough. Dutch cooking has always had a talent for making yesterday useful without making it feel punished.

The name already tells you almost nothing, which is honest of it. Eiersalade means egg salad, and there is no hidden Latin staircase beneath it, no spice cargo, no exile on the quay. But let me tell you a secret: some dishes matter because they refuse to pretend. This is the salad of paasontbijt, Easter breakfast, of verjaardagen, birthday tables, of little toast rounds passed on a plate while somebody's aunt says she has made too much again (she has not).

The trick is restraint. The eggs should be chopped, not beaten into paste, because you want the yolk to enrich the dressing while the whites keep a little bite. Mustard wakes the whole thing. Chives give it spring. Hou het altijd simpel, always keep it simple: cool the eggs properly, season after mixing, and let the salad rest long enough for the onion and mustard to stop shouting.