Deviled eggs that even God would cosign

I love deviled eggs. So much so that it is extremely embarrassing for me to admit that I thought they were called "doubled eggs," well into my teens, both because of thick Baltimore accents and how they are made–– I mean you literally take out the yolk and add a bunch of ingredients to it, which in actuality doubles the egg. 

I also inaccurately thought of deviled eggs as being exclusively soul food. It is not strange to go to a Black function, maybe a holiday dinner and hear "Hey Auntie, lemme get yams, seafood salad, macaroni salad, three turkey meatballs and four of those double-eggs!" So, I'm guessing that you could probably imagine the wild look on my face, when I posted up a bar — in a mostly white neighborhood, with a mostly white staff — and saw three different types of deviled eggs on the menu.

I was even more surprised, when a dude who looked like Kelsey Grammer from that show "Frazier" sat two stools down from me and devoured about three orders. Frasier was eating those devil eggs so hard that I thought he was going to mess around and gnaw off his index finger. A chunky scoop of yellow even bounced onto his argyle sweater — and, yes, he ate that too.