Nora Ephron's Egg Salad Recipe

FROM HUFFINGTON POST:

I had the pleasure of knowing Nora Ephron. I am saddened but also celebrating Nora, so I wanted to share. Once I asked Nora about her experience at Huff Post and she said, "Before I can finish my thoughts, Arianna has a team working on it." She was a special lady.

 "I am no one from nowhere." That is how I started my conversation with Nora Ephron. I meant it and she grinned back at me across the table of a crowded restaurant on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Over a year prior to our lunch, I'd bid on a meet and greet with Nora Ephron on CharityBuzz.com, an auction site that benefits charities. The proceeds of our meeting went to Rosie's Broadway Kids foundation.

To be honest, I wasn't even sure it would happen, it took a year to schedule the meeting. I literally was, and am, nobody to someone like Nora Ephron. I bid on the auction feverishly and at the last minute outbid someone for five times the appraised value of the auction for a lunch in NYC with Nora. It was the deal of a lifetime for me. I loved her movies, but even more, I loved her words. I had every book and the older movies on VHS. I am a Nora Ephr-fan.

 The charity contacted me and asked for dates to set up a lunch in NYC with Ms. Ephron. I placed my bid and won on December 3, 2009. I had an instant moment of panic when I realized I had to pay what I had bid. I wanted to wait and meet her in the spring, planning my own New York fantasy vacation. But life got in the way. I injured myself and couldn't travel, Nora had a book tour, and one thing and then another. We went on for over a year scheduling and re-scheduling. I always knew it would happen, we just had to find the right time and I tried every month.

 Then, magically, I was told that Nora had an opening on Monday, February 28, 2011. I booked my flight on February 23 and couldn't sleep at all that night. The next morning I realized that Monday was the day after the Oscars. How could I have lunch with Nora Ephron the day after the Oscars, when I hadn't even seen the nominated films? I could die. I feared I might drown in my own sweat that night. Thankfully, Nora wasn't going and had not been nominated. I decided it was more important to worry over my clothes. I arrived an hour early for our lunch. I paced in front of the deli on Madison Avenue. My heart was beating through my chest. What was I going to say? Why had I come all this way? Why did I spend this money? Why is my tie so tight? Did I put on deodorant? This may not end well.

 I sat as calmly as I could on the edge of a bench two doors down from the restaurant with a bag of bath oils. I knew Nora had a favorite bath oil from reading her books, and I decided it was better to play it safe than be original. I went in and got a table at the window and waited for Nora's arrival.

She arrived punctually and I bounded for the door as soon as I saw her walking up the street. I threw open the door and said, "Mrs. Ephron, I believe I am your lunch date." She smiled and led the way into the restaurant. I told her I had a table for us already. She took one look and said, " No, no one wants to sit in the window." She stopped the host and said we'd be sitting in the back corner. And, just like that, we did.

 We made small talk. She ordered about ten different salads and we shared. I was shaking under the table as she strongly encouraged me to try the egg salad. I'd never had egg salad despite being from Tennessee. From that day on, it was Nora Ephron's egg salad. Nora was exactly what I expected: sharp, quick-witted and kind more than anything else. She gave me career advice without being a cheerleader. She read my work and told me it was good, and I almost fainted. I said, "Nora, you don't have to say that. I paid for this lunch." She insisted that she was buying lunch and she was honest.

 She told me that she knew a little about my home town and she had friends in Nashville. I asked her who, making a joke that it was a small town. She turned to me with a clever grin and slyly asked, " Do you know Ke$ha?" I am sitting across from Nora Ephron and she asks me if I know the pop sensation Ke$ha? Well, it turns out her son is in the band. Nora told me she'd enjoyed bacon from the Lovelace Cafe in Nashville and she wanted to visit. We talked about vacations and places we had been and wanted to visit. Nora was charming and I was in love.

 After lunch I thanked her for her time, and expected our two hours had come to a close. She walked me to the end of the block and asked what I was doing next. I told her I had no plans, and she put her arm in mine and we walked down the block. I wanted to visit the Ralph Lauren store and she told me all about it. As we walked, we passed by a bakery that said it was the "very best chocolate cake in the world." She insisted we had to try it. So we went in and split two pieces of cake. What is better, I ask you?

We wandered down the street and made small talk and I walked Nora to her building before going over to the store to shop. Of course, my head was swimming and I raced back to the hotel to call my sister and tell her all about my lunch.

 For more than a year, we exchanged emails and recipes. Nora gave me her egg salad recipe and emailed me the next day to tell me to mix it with knife because a fork would mash the eggs too much. I told her how I liked to microwave a frozen chocolate cake so you could get just the right amount of gooey hot chocolate and chilled cake.

For her 70th birthday, I sent her a gift basket from the breakfast place in Nashville she liked. I received the following email: You are so adorable and kind to send me THE MOST FABULOUS PACKAGE OF GOODIES. I cannot wait to make this bacon, try this biscuit mix, and put jam all over it. Hope you are good and happy .... Thank you thank you. xx Nora

My heart is heavy today. I am sad because I lost a friend but selfishly I will miss her words. I want to see another movie, read another book and get another emailed recipe. Someone said that Nora had a knack for making the most ordinary people also the most extraordinary characters. I know that this was not just a talent, but also the heart of Nora Ephron: an amazingly brilliant woman who was sensationally kind and relatable. 


 Egg Salad from Nora Ephron: This is literally how she wrote it to me: Throw away at least 1/4 of the whites. Maybe even 1/3 of the whites. Add a bunch of Hellmann's mayonnaise and blend with knives, but don't mash it up with a fork. Salt & pepper. Also you could put in a tiny bit of chopped fresh dill but that is optional.

welcome back, me

Life has its fair share of full circle moments. Today is one of them. Recently, a friend of mine passed away. She had been very encouraging to me and an inspiration. One day over lunch she told me I was funny and a good writer. She was a professional, and I was and continue to be a novice at best. That day I told her that I was going to pay for lunch and she didn't have to butter me up. She insisted that I had talent and I should write a book and include recipes from my family. I took her at her word because I wanted to be a good writer and I wanted her to like my words. Today she is gone. After almost a year off of writing I am taking your advice, Nora. I am getting back on the horse! I will continue writing as though I am my grandmother - giving me the unsolicited advice and opinions I never asked for. I'll also throw in some recipes. More to come.

a word about Charity and TOMS

Here is the thing. I believe you be good to Mama (earth) and she'll be good to you. I drive a hybrid. I recycle when it's convenient. I do not however get the whole TOMS craze? These shoes are ugly. I get that they send a pair to poor kids in turn. That is nice, but they are ugly. I say write a check. Make a difference. Get the kid some damn KEDS. The only thing worse than being underprivileged is having to wear shoes that look unfinished. This isn't always a bad idea in theory- see Save The Children Ties for crying out loud. But I can't wrap my head around or put my feet in those shoes.

fat's not ugly when it's tan

I have a couple of words of conflicting advice for you honeys about summer fun,

1) wear sunscreen. you don't want to end up leathery when you're old

2) fat's not ugly when it's tan

See kiddos, life is about balance.

(remember my addage "1 margarita, 2 margaritahh, 3 marsgatittaz, floor." You can do too much of a good thing)
...And watch out for sand in those delicate places. Nothing ruins a good time like a bad rash.

farmers markets...

Today, I got in my hybrid and I drove to the farmer's market. I felt like I was saving the world and making it a better place with every mile I drove. When I got there I realized it wasn't exactly my scene. I stepped in dog poo. I forget earth-lovers are also typically dog lovers who feel the need to bring said dogs everywhere hence leaving doggy presents for farmers market shoppers.

I bought some delicious bread for $5, though I would have paid $10 to have the lady selling to me shut the hell up. These folks are proud. Then I got some zucchini for a salad I plan to make sometime in the future. I find it is best to have aspirations and I couldn't leave with just a loaf of bread.

I ran into a friend and met her sister who was with her. They suggested I try the local pop cycle stand. It is at this point I made a tragic mistake by not understanding my environment...I told them that I had been to Whole Foods the day before and a chicken breast was $7. YES, one breast was $7- because it was $12/lb. I explained how ludicrous this was to me when hippie sister chirped up- " Did you see FOOD INC. ... It will make you understand why the chicken is worth it." SO, I replied, "yes, I did and those chickens should have been nominated for an Oscar. We always overlook poultry talent." My line bombed. I had to recover so I said, " I should have known the chicken would cost that, I'm sure it was prepared by someone with an MBA." She smiled but I could tell she didn't enjoy me. White people often enjoy jokes about higher education.

Note to self: remember audience

a word about Elizabeth Taylor

It's been a while since I've posted. I always say, if you don't have anything good to say shut the hell up. But, recently, I find myself thinking about Elizabeth Taylor...

All my life I idolized Liz Taylor. I found her to be the most glamorous and beautiful woman ever, ever, and still. I fantasized about meeting her. I was genuinely sad to hear of her passing but I was shocked just last week to see her home.

To me Liz was IT. She was old hollywood elegance. I wanted to live like Liz. Hell she was sassy, respected, notorious, did I say glamorus? She was one hell of a humanitarian and she knew how to party. To me, Liz lived like Liz and no one else. Hell she had to get her hips replaced and I think we all know why.

Now recently, her home has been put on the market and all my ridiculous notions of how Ms. Taylor lived have been rocked. I always imagined Liz to live in some huge-gantic Bel Air spread. I pictured cream colored stucco and a vegas sized fountain. I had read her house had Israeli guards, which is/was true. But the house itself is a large sprawling ranch. Yes, Liz Taylor lived in a ranch home. Don't get me wrong... it looks lovely and down right homey. It's nothing like I had anticipated. I pictured formal and intimidating and fancy for Christ sake. Imagine all those diamonds in a rancher! The Maybach looks so out of place in front of that house.

But the truth is, it was a home. So, I'm impressed. Here you have a woman who could live anyway she wants and she lives comfortably. It really changed my outlook on life. All this time, I was aspiring to Dynasty when comfort was the way she lived. Goes to show you... you never know.

Now for a little bit I read on the interwebs... Some kid said he went to ET's house once:
"I had been an art student and visited museums and my university often had these amazing rare collections on loan from the "Rich Mr. Smith collection" or the " Rich- this or that foundation" always displaying a very impressive name of some rich family. But from time to time there were some marked anonymous. I guess the owners wanted to be private. Well once I went to visit Ms. Taylor's residence, actually to return a painting that was on loan and having no idea whose home I was entering... and I saw several paintings that were... anonymous's. So I was excited to meet her. Elizabeth had to sign the paperwork and I said it is so nice to meet you- "you're anonymous!"

the truth about Cicadas

Down here in the South, we're all getting used to our unwelcome house guests, the cicadas. My suster told me a lot of you childrun don't know what a cicada is, she said some of you might think it's the name of the local drag queen. But, in fact, it's just a bug. It's not a particularly pretty bug and I would say it's a kin to a locust. Maybe like your cousins you don't talk to except when you see them at Thanksgiving or Christmas... the ones you won't friend request on facebook because you don't really get to pick your relations.

I digress... these ugly ass bugs are not that different than you and me. They live under ground for something like 13 years. Then the come up out of the ground and mate and then they die. Well honeys, I lived practically under ground for 21 years, came out, got screwed and now I'm just passing time. But these nasty things don't pay rent, leave their shells all over the place like your in - grate children leave they clothes out all the damn time and you haven't even paid off the Macy's card before they done gone and runned 'em.

Back to the bugs, they just damn nasty. They make a lot of noise at night, again, much like a teenager... but then after 4-6 weeks they are gone... for 13 more years. And we are left to pick up the mess, the dead bugs and the endo skeletons not to mention they produce droppings. It's just not hygentical. I know it's not a word but bugs don't have hygiene - have you ever seen a cicada in CVS? I don't think so.

So the best I can tell you is this, just shut the hell up and deal with it. Pass the time with a mint julip or a nice bubbly white wine cooler or something. It's just going to be Spring this year, but for cryin' out loud wear socks, because that crunch is just not a good sound.