The chickens, of course (they arrived five months ago, to be exact). But, lo and behold, those dear girls gave us our very FIRST HOMGROWN, ORGANIC EGG this week! Like most things worth waiting for, our sense of pride is significantly greater than the grocery store value for, say, eggs, would indicate. We find ourselves blurting out the news to anyone we think might occasionally eat eggs. As if this news will make them swoon like we have. For days.
When I told our raw milk dairy farmer, Kate, our big news, she asked, "are the yolks bright orange?" As I considered my answer, I had to admit that, in fact, they were a mild yellow—nowhere near as bright golden orange as the eggs Kate's silver-laced Wyandottes (a.k.a. "peeps") provide us every week. From what I've learned, that has to do with the fact that they're not eating freely of grass and bugs and anything else they can scrounge. (We lost two to the wild this summer; since then, they've taken supervised furloughs to a chicken "tractor" in our backyard. They get to scratch the earth and take dirt baths every day, but they aren't out foraging for their food. If a worm peeks its head up beneath the oak leaves, I suspect it's a very good day.
Even so, the omelet our first home-grown egg made, split four ways, was the most tender morsel I've ever consumed. The girls have left us one egg—nestled in their straw-filled nesting box, no less!—every morning for the past four mornings. By the time they're all up to speed, I think we can expect between 3 and 5 eggs for our six hens EVERY DAY.
While the ground is preparing for it's long winter's sleep, a glaze of ice has appeared across the pond, and life outside feels slowed, this new burst of energy, life and productivity is so very welcomed.
I take mine scrambled, thank you very much.
Posted by: Jon | December 09, 2008 at 10:00 AM
I take mine scrambled, thank you very much.
Posted by: Jon | December 09, 2008 at 10:01 AM