Bob Vivant

in pursuit of delicious beauty

Bob Vivant

Bob Vivant
Chicago, Illinois, USA
August 21
Coffee, black, French press, Intelligentsia. Two poached eggs, runny yolks, coarse ground black pepper, Maldon salt. Wheat toast, extra thick slice, dense with millet and seeds, European-style butter. Summer melon, fresh mint.


NOVEMBER 10, 2009 3:06PM

A Good Egg (Foodie Tuesday)

Rate: 2 Flag


Have you ever tasted a fresh egg? 

Not an egg 'fresh' from the store, but an egg fresh from the farm--just a few hours old?

If you've tasted a fresh egg and love eggs, especially fried ones with runny yolks, then you already know how special they can be. It's one of those first time experiences you will always remember, like your first kiss, but for a foodie perhaps even more titillating.

Our local grocery store carries over 20 different kinds of eggs varying in size, color, additives (Omega 3 anyone?), and means of production (cage-free, vegetarian, fertile, oh my). The prices vary too by as much as $4.00 a dozen. But I must admit - I can't tell the difference between my cage-free brown egg and the store brand white egg. I just sleep better at night dreaming of happy chickens roaming free on the range. (I'm not an idealist; I said dreaming.)

Recently, I visited my sister in a rural part of Western Pennsylvania or simply God's Country. My country-mouse sister gets her eggs from a small farm a mile from her home. This egg-loving city mouse couldn't wait to visit the farm.

I helped harvest my own eggs! What a far cry from lifting the carton lid at the grocery store and mindlessly checking for defects. We carried six dozen to the car after leaving $12.00 in a wooden box in the barn. Wow - the honor system still thrives in many parts of the world! More surprising still was that the eggs cost only $2.00 a dozen.

Back at my sister's house we fried a few eggs for lunch (in butter and only after they were thoroughly washed). The deep golden, nearly orange yolks were rich with a hint of sweetness, like no other eggs I had ever tasted. Looking back, maybe it was the eggs; maybe it was sharing the moment with someone I love, my sister, my friend, my fellow epicure. I may never know, but it was one of the greatest pleasures I have ever known.

Welcome to Wigney Farm:


Free chickens eyeing the gateway to happiness (We counted over 12 different species or sub-species.)


 Lunch is served.


 Settling in for a siesta


Some cleaning required.


"Probably one of the most private things in the world is an egg until it is broken."  ~ M.F.K. Fisher


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Oh, what a great experience!
I had eggs that fresh when I was a kid out in West Virginia. Now I have nostagia issues over an egg!

(thumbified for something so common in its rarity)
I grew up on a Scottish farm, so fresh eggs were the only kind I had until well into my teens. The only exceptions were those found in odd places when a hen had gone a bit weird and broody and decided to hide her clutch. Those we had to treat with suspicion because if she laid 20 the oldest one could be at least 20 days old. All our hens were free range, though they had to be shut in at night to keep out the foxes and wildcats.
Jodi - I may have had them as a kid too, but they were scrambled and served with ketchup - that's an ick.

GeeBee - Growing up on a farm in Scotland sounds divine, but I suspect it came with some challenges beyond a broody hen. I have a nutty dream of owning a few layers in the city. Fortunately for my neighbors it's illegal in Chicago...for now ;)