Photo by Jagosaurus on Flickr.
Yesterday, I volunteered at Fairchild's first Kitchen Gardening event, which offered a handful of great classes on how to grow your own edibles and enjoy them. (I'll post about the event in detail later next week.)
The chickens from Williams Grove paid Fairchild a visit yesterday. When I left after a long and rainy day, I got to take home a freshly laid egg. I was really excited to try the egg because the only other time I had tried fresh eggs was in Spain, in the rugged Peaks of Europe, where my grandfather was born.
Yet, yesterday, a brief informal survey of a few family members revealed that they are squeamish about eating fresh eggs. My mother said: "I feel sorry for the chicken. I could never eat it."
What the ... ?
Now, I can't for the life of me figure out why on earth an omnivore that doesn't think twice about buying a carton of eggs from Publix would feel sorry for a chicken that lives the life o' Riley down in Homestead. I met those chickens personally. They're allowed to roam the farm and enjoy a deluxe coop where to lay eggs and rest at night. Why cringe and say "ew" to fresh and organic?
So I'd love to know: would you feel weird about eating fresh eggs? Please comment if you have a moment.
PS ... I haven't tried the egg yet. It's waiting in the fridge.