Look, I’m not going to lie, this isn’t going to be the most brilliant blog post you’ll ever read.

But it might just change your life.

I’m feeling a wee bit under the weather for reasons that may be related to the consumption of red wine, white wine, beer and mojito, but could also be a stomach bug things that’s going around. It’s impossible to tell. Anyway, in light of my current condition, I’m not really in a position to be composing the kind of “yeah geez, that really made me think” intellectual gut punches that you’re used to copping from this site. But I still want to contribute my ideas to the world. I still want to be part of your weekend. I still want to connect with you through this medium, even though the chances are you’re in a secret Snapchat group with me.

So I’ve whipped up this little morsel for you to mung on to tied you over until I bash out something print-worthy (which is to say, a piece that went to print, how worthy that may of the ink and paper be is open to interpretation) on Wednesday.

My sister and I planned a cheeky we’re-allowed-to-picnic-now picnic yesterday, which obviously called for egg salad sandwiches.  I mean, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but a good egg sal sang is can be better than repeatedly penetration in a rapid succession.

And I’m not just saying that because of that whole double yolker episode from a few weeks back, which will absolutely prove to be the peak of my career. Egg salad sandwiches are just really, really good. That’s an undeniable fact.

Anyway, my sister, being the organised legal beagle she’s trainer herself to become, looked up a recipe for egg salad to ensure we had the best eggy mush to slop on to our bread. I mean, I personally just crush the eggs with some mayo and pepper and a bit of something extra (you might say the extra ingredient is salt). But she wanted to get it right. And good heavens, did we get it right.

Because this recipe called for a few bits of snipped up shallots to the gunge.

And, sure, the extra pops of green added a certain level of aesthetic to the egg, but it was the oniony fly kick to the tastebuds that raised the sangs from “essential” to “YESsential”. (yep, that’s where I’m out mentally right now, this whole thing just worked up to an underwhelming pun).

I’m not the best person to be giving out life advice, but I think I’m well within my rights to strongly suggest you try snipping a few deep green rings of pep into your next egg salad.