Everyone loved Devilled Eggs when I would make them too. In fact, now I'm going to go make some to go with potato salad and burgers for dinner tonight.
The only time you couldn't eat an egg is when it came out of its shell with a blood spot on it. Then you had to discard it, in keeping with God's Laws On The Sanctity Of Blood™.
Confession time: We had a Bethelite™ from Brooklyn Bethel™ freeloading staying with us for a District Convention™ back in the mid-80s. He expected a full breakfast every morning - just like they got at Bethel™ - before we left for the Sessions™ at the Convention™. (That wasn't part of the deal that I agreed to before he arrived there, but went along because it was only for a couple of days and then we'd never see his skinny ass ever again.) Anyway, he spent the entire Convention™ pretending like he didn't know us while he was scouring the crowds for eligible Sisters™ and going clubbing after the Sessions™. On the Sunday, I was fixing breakfast, and one of the eggs ended up with a big blood spot on it. I was so ticked with him being a freeloading ingrate, that instead of throwing it away, I cooked it (over easy) and then gave it to him. I never told him or Mr Scully what I did, and I wasn't sorry either.