There is Not a Day That Goes By

...that I do not think of some sort of aspect of farming.  

Is it ancestral voices calling or merely a fixation?

 

I was delighted to learn that one of our new volunteers, Kathleen, has a small farm on which she raises free-range chickens.  I asked if I could purchase eggs from her and did not flinch when she quoted the price of $5.00 per dozen.  I expected it.   

When my dozen of organic farm fresh brown eggs arrived I inquired about having to refrigerate them.  When we visited my friend Maureen at her farm she had a lovely basket of eggs she had collected that morning sitting on her counter.  I was wondering if I could do the same and was already envisioning them sitting out in my wire-chicken egg holder.  Kathleen explained that because she sells the eggs at market, she washes the eggs directly after collecting them and that by doing so, they must be refrigerated.  She explained that there is an invisible coating on the outside of each egg called the bloom that protects the insides from bacteria. The washing process removes that barrier and for health reasons they are kept in the fridge.  In this case, the bloom isn’t only off the rose it is also off the egg.   I would not be keeping mine on the counter.  

I peeked into the gray cardboard carton at my prize... 

They were irregular in size and were various shades of brown.  They were beautiful.  Later that day, at the local grocery, I bought a carton of their “advertised  organic” brown eggs costing $2.59 (also in a gray cardboard carton) and my usual jumbo white eggs (cradled in Styrofoam) which despite their extra large weight were the cheapest.  I couldn’t wait to begin my experiment.  

Morning came and I decided eggs would be on the menu for breakfast and since the grocery store variety of brown eggs were on the top of my neat stack of full cartons I decided to use them first.  The pan was on the stovetop with just a smidge of butter melting in it and I froze for a second before opening it up.  My mother occasionally bought brown eggs from the Mennonite farm where we bought our milk.  Back then, it seemed each time I would make breakfast for the Staley brood we would use an entire dozen at a time; I would get at least one egg or more that contained bloody flecks in it, a sign that the egg had been fertilized.  I never served those eggs to anyone.  Of course I cannot be sure of associating the chance of bloody flecks with brown eggs or perhaps the flash back to the time I burned my mother’s kitchen curtains while home alone making breakfast for myself, which had made me so nervous.  But that is another story. 

The opened carton revealed eggs uniform in size as well as seemly more equally the same rich brown color than the farm fresh eggs.  I decided that because I knew Kathleen’s eggs were from different breeds of chickens it only made sense that they would not be uniform, or so I justified.  It tickled me when Kathleen told me she called her laying hens ”the Nuns”.  Well, it seems in this case a la Agnes of God, some rooster had been visiting the convent where the store bought organic eggs had come from because when I cracked open that first egg, you guessed it, there were the tell tale bloody flecks and it went straight into the trash.  

In egg number two the yolk was a nice rich orange-yellow color.  It held together well when dropped in the pan and was quite tasty.  I can’t say for sure if I felt it was better than my usual jumbo ones but I was lulled into thinking it was better for me because it was from free range organically fed chickens.  No doubt thinking of Barbara Kingsolver's information of CFO raised chickens had convinced me and they carried no vision of 1,152 chickens housed in a 6x9 space that Kingsolver spoke of.   

Then back to Kathleen’s eggs.  Yes they varied in size and color, had a rich colored yolk but since no rooster had come into contact with the girls there were no bloody specks.  I did not find any specks in the white eggs plucked from Styrofoam either and they were cheap but my conscience got the best of me.  

I guess, in conclusion, when you know where the eggs come from and have met the chickens that lay them the extra money spent is well worth the peace of mind and the health benefits they contain.  Supporting the farmers in your community is also a huge bonus.   I still will wince when cracking them open.  Kathleen tells me that it is totally acceptable to eat the eggs containing a few bloody specks and must be one of those farmers that subscribes to the proverb, "Waste not want not." 

Books to read on raising chickens: 

Chick days: an absolute beginner's guide to raising chickens from hatchlings to laying hens.   Woginrich, Jenna.  

Storey's guide to raising chickens : care, feeding, facilities.  Damerow, Gail.  

The joy of keeping farm animals: raising chickens, goats, pigs, sheep, and cows.  Childs, Laura. 

Still life with chickens : starting over in a house by the sea.  Goldhammer, Catherine.