By Memorial Day weekend in Charleston is a particular kind of theater — the tourists descend, the restaurants overflow, and the city becomes both itself and a performance of itself, history presented on a silver platter with a side of sweet tea. I worked Saturday morning at the library and then Robert and I took the children to a cookout at his colleague's house on Sullivan's Island, which involved a view of the harbor, a volleyball game James took far too seriously, and the kind of small talk that Robert navigates effortlessly and I endure with the polite determination of a woman who would rather be reading.
I am not, by nature, a social person. I am a person who is good at performing sociability when required — a skill learned in the parsonage, where the preacher's daughter was expected to be gracious to every church member, to remember names and children and illnesses and prayer requests, to make conversation that was warm without being intimate. I learned that social currency early, and I spend it when necessary, but the spending costs me something, and the cost is silence afterward — the deep, restorative silence of my own kitchen at nine PM, hands in dishwater, no one requiring anything of me.
James is talking about getting a summer job. He wants to work at the bookstore on King Street, which delights me beyond reason. A Simmons behind a counter of books — my father would have been baffled. My mother would have understood. Robert thinks he should do something "more practical," by which he means more lucrative, and the disagreement is gentle but real, and it is one of the moments where I see the Blackwood values and the Simmons values brush against each other like tectonic plates, producing not earthquakes but a low, persistent tremor.
I made deviled eggs for the cookout — the recipe passed from Mama, who learned it from her mother, who learned it from hers. Deviled eggs in the Lowcountry are not complicated: hard-boiled eggs, Duke's mayonnaise (not Hellmann's, never Hellmann's, this is a hill on which I will die), mustard, a dash of pickle relish, paprika on top. The secret is the egg — it must be fresh, the yolk centered, the boil precise. I made two dozen and they were gone in twenty minutes, and Robert's colleague's wife asked for the recipe, and I gave her everything except the particular way Mama folds the yolk mixture with a fork instead of a spoon, because some things are inherited, not taught.
On Sunday I drove to Beaufort. Mama was making Frogmore stew for the church's Memorial Day gathering. I helped her in the kitchen and watched her hands — still competent, still knowing, the motor memory of a thousand meals encoded in muscle and bone. But she asked me twice where the Old Bay was, and it has been in the same cabinet for forty years. I moved it to the counter where she could see it and said nothing.
Standing in Mama’s kitchen watching her search for the Old Bay, I needed to make something that felt like steadiness—something that didn’t ask anything of me except muscle memory and the knowledge of what goes in the bowl. Potato salad is that dish: the other anchor of every Lowcountry gathering, the thing that sits beside the deviled eggs and holds the table together. Duke’s was already in my cart before I drove home.
Classic Southern Potato Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min (plus chilling) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 3 lbs Yukon Gold or russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
- 1 tsp salt, plus more for boiling water
- 3/4 cup Duke’s mayonnaise
- 1 tbsp yellow mustard
- 2 tbsp sweet pickle relish
- 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
- 1/2 tsp black pepper
- 1/2 tsp celery seed
- 3 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
- 3 stalks celery, finely diced
- 1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
- Paprika, for garnish
Instructions
- Boil the potatoes. Place potato chunks in a large pot and cover with cold salted water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and cook until just fork-tender, about 15–18 minutes. Do not overcook—they should hold their shape. Drain and spread on a sheet pan to cool for 10 minutes.
- Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, mustard, pickle relish, apple cider vinegar, salt, pepper, and celery seed until smooth and combined.
- Combine. Add the cooled potatoes, chopped eggs, celery, and red onion to the bowl. Fold gently with a fork—not a spoon—until everything is evenly coated. Take care not to mash the potatoes.
- Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. The flavor improves as it sits. Overnight is better.
- Finish and serve. Taste for seasoning and adjust salt or vinegar as needed. Transfer to a serving dish and dust generously with paprika before bringing it to the table.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 390mg