The deviled egg at The Loyalist could have been designed by Fabergé. Pickled in beet juice, the jewel-toned half sphere is filled with a blend of egg yolk, smoked trout, mayonnaise, dill, and shallots and adorned with smoked trout roe and dill. It’s as delicious as it is beautiful.

“Eggs are one of my favorite things on the planet, and I love them in all kinds of ways,” says the Loyalist’s John Shields. That sentiment feels true for chefs all over the city, who are using them as a creative canvas. Deviled eggs seem to be on every Chicago menu these days, and what’s being served up is a far cry from the wan versions you find sweating on summer picnic tables.

Deviled eggs have a traditional place in the cuisines of France, Eastern Europe, and the American South, which means they fit naturally onto the menus at a variety of restaurants. As a longtime deviled egg fan, I order them whenever I see them. I’ve had them stuffed with potato salad and pepperoncini aïoli at the Oakville Grill & Cellar; with smoked whitefish caviar, herbs, and black pepper aïoli at Mon Ami Gabi; with crab, hot sauce, and scallions at Dove’s Luncheonette; and with tarragon aïoli and celeriac rémoulade at Le Petit Marcel.

Tarragon is also the flavor of choice at Anelya, where Johnny Clark uses tarragon mayo and a Cantabrian anchovy for a salty pop. “When I went to Ukraine in 2023, a friend’s mom made them with eggs from chickens in the backyard and dolloped fresh mayo on top,” he says. “It’s a common predinner snack there, which inspired the one at Anelya.”

At the Loyalist, Shields has made a variety of deviled eggs, from one pickled with black truffle juice to one filled with blood sausage mousse and topped with an anchovy (“That was met with some love and some stares,” he says). He currently also offers a Spence Farm version, which is sliced in half and topped with Russian dressing. Deviled eggs don’t need to be fancy to be beloved. At his New Orleans–inspired Ina Mae Tavern, Brian Jupiter serves his topped simply with hot sauce and scallions, and it’s one of the restaurant’s bestsellers.

Perhaps no one adores deviled eggs like Funeral Potatoes chef Alexis Rice, who rotates in a new one on the bar menu at Moonflower each month. “They’re a great drinking food,” she says. “It’s like a pickled egg in a jar at the bar. It’s salty and savory, and it goes well with a beer or a martini.” Among the versions she’s offered: a horseradish, olive, and paprika one inspired by her great-grandmother’s recipe; a Massaman curry version with toasted coconut and smoky chile oil from Vargo Brother Ferments; and, her bestseller, one filled with Sriracha and ginger.

So why are deviled eggs suddenly everywhere? “They’re fast to prep,” says Rice. Clark has another explanation: “When there’s an economic downturn, people go back to comfort foods. It’s something everyone can relate to.”

Maybe not everyone. Rice has seen diners who’d been turned off by the basic picnic versions from their youth struggle to embrace today’s more cheffed-up offerings. “Some people look at them like they’re pickled herring,” she says. “It’s been fun to open people’s minds and rewrite their memories of deviled eggs.”