A few years ago, I made the long drive across the entire state of North Dakota to my hometown with my four-year-old and my two-year-old. Two small kids, in a car, for over 8 hours. I was so proud of myself for having arrived with my little kids and sanity intact that you’d have thought I split the atom.
While heading back to my roots, I had plenty of time to think about the treasured moments from my own childhood, and one memory that kept coming up was pickled eggs. I grew up with jars of these treats sitting on our counter. While pouring over childhood pictures recently, I noticed that there was an egg jar in the background in so many photos, and that's because my mom made the best pickled eggs — we absolutely loved ‘em.