If there’s a food you don’t like, try eating it pickled. - Neven Mrgan

True as this adage is, I confess it may not apply to pickled eggs so much, as most people like eggs. But this will get us started on pickling in general, which we hope to revisit soon.

A few weeks ago, some chicken-owning friends offered us three dozen eggs. Not one to say no to local eggs - one of those ingredients where the small-batch stuff is really noticeably better than the store kind - I then had to decide what to do with thirty-six eggs. Enter pickling, one of the best ways to preserve food.

We’ll need perfectly hardboiled eggs, so let’s start with well washed and cleaned eggs - I put 24 of them in a large pot. Cover the eggs by 1 inch of water; bring to a boil on high, then immediately remove from heat, cover, and let gently cook for 17 minutes.

While you wait, fill a large bowl with ice. After the 17 minutes are up, carefully transfer the eggs (using a slotted spoon) to the ice bath and let them chill for 2 minutes. The egg will shrink and let go of the shell. By the way, don’t really want to hardboil freshly laid eggs. Slightly older ones (a few weeks or so) will part with the shell more smoothly; the flavor shouldn’t be much different.

This next step is usually skipped when hardboiling, unfortunately: bring the water in the pot to a boil again, and move eggs to it in batches. Boil them for 10 seconds - this will expand the shell even further. In the ice bath they go again after this second boil. This heat-cool-heat-cool cycle will make things easier when you get to the longest part of this process: peeling the eggs. It’s a good idea also to let the eggs cool down in the final ice bath for 15 minutes or so. You’ll be making the pickling brine during this time.

You can do endless variations on brine; the basic idea is: 50% water, 50% acid, plus spices. In my case, I mixed 10 oz balsamic vinegar, 10 oz apple cider vinegar, and 20 oz water. For spices and seasonings, I threw in a few cloves of garlic, black peppercorns, half a tablespoon of salt, and 4 tablespoons of brown sugar. Brought to a near-boil over medium-high heat, this wicked brew filled the kitchen with the smell of winter appetizers. While the brine cools down (it should not steam at all), peel the eggs. It helps if you can get help from friends, loved ones, neighborhood children, retired businessmen, elderly novelists, etc. etc.

What sort of container should you use? Anything with a tight seal and a wide mouth will work. I picked up a wide, half-gallon glass jar with a screw-on lid. Glass will let you see the beautiful color and texture of white orbs floating in liquid midnight, and it’s also less likely to stain and absorb the smell of vinegar. Whatever container you go with, wash it with lots of soap and hot water.

When everything’s cool and clean, spoon the eggs into the jar, pour the brine over them - making sure it covers them all - and store your proud batch of pickled eggs in the fridge. Now, some folks will tell you pickled eggs will keep just fine even if not refrigerated; I say, why risk it. Whether they’re cooked and pickled or not, I wouldn’t leave eggs at room temperature longer than a few days.

Stored in the fridge, these will keep up to 18 months (as if you won’t eat them sooner than that.) How soon is too soon, though? I tasted this batch at one day, three days, one week, two weeks, and four weeks. After one day, all I got was very forward vinegar on the outside, and little complexity on the inside. Waiting a week allowed the acid to find its way to the yolk; it was a quite different dish. After four weeks, the flavors deepened and the eggs toughened a bit (which isn’t necessarily bad, though they may get rubbery after several months.) My recommendation is to wait at least one week before serving.

And how do you serve these beautiful black marbles, exactly? Rinsed and dried and bare isn’t too bad! There’s plenty of flavor here. The typical way of fancying them up is to devil the yolks. May I suggest mixing them with a basil-and-chili aioli? Or perhaps horseradish and beet? Top a leafy-green salad with them? As with the brine itself, do what feels right, do it often, and don’t be afraid to experiment.