In praise of eggs
Once, I got invited to a musical potluck in mid-New Hampshire. Thirty or forty fiddlers, whistlers, banjo pickers and players of mandolins, guitars, pianos and standing basses sat on a warm, red rug, playing reels — one would start and others would listen and follow, and the tunes ran around the room. They had a long table full of casseroles and desserts; one made with whipped cream and cranberries in a sweet crust I'll never forget. They had a log cabin halfway up the hill, a moonlit stumble through the woods, that a wood stove heated into a sauna. And they sold eggs new laid that day.
I got a dozen for two dollar as I left, and I have never had anything like them. The yolks were rounded and deep orange. They cooked up firmer than store bought eggs; they looked and tasted brighter. It's the season to celebrate eggs now. Many traditions recognize them as spring food, food for the start of the growing season. It's the season to celebrate what's young and quick and new too, and the first red buds on the trees.
Spring chickens at Taft Farm, Eagle file photo.
So here's a toast to chickens — warm buff chickens and tall leghorns, irridescent green chickens and coppery hens with red combs, and roosters with feathered ankles like bellbottoms. And here's another to fresh eggs. I set out this afternoon to find out where I can find eggs from the farm around here. There are still farms here that grow them.
At the north and south ends of the county, there are a range of choices. Taft Farms in Great Barrington raises chickens in its clover fields. Caretaker Farm lets its chickens range free. In mid-county, try Otis Poultry Farms, or hang out by the poultry barn at Hancock Shaker Village and listen to the roosters crow.
And if you feel a need for more young life in the early spring, you can always rescue a rabbit.