My wonderful neighbor brought over a half-dozen eggs from her new chickens. Retrogrouch has been on an egg jamboree lately, and he even convinces me to eat a protein breakfast about half the week now. I’m still not very cooperative — some days I say, “honey, I just can’t face eggs this morning.” But he mixes them with a vegetable, and they smell and look good. This is a typical example, eggs à la mode de Bruxelles:
We go through, suddenly, a ton of eggs, and our usual egg source doesn’t have enough eggs because of the season, so we’ve been buying farm eggs wherever we can. See the difference in the yolks compared to the pale yellow store eggs?* So I was even more happy that my generous neighbor decided to come by.
I just have to say, too, that I live in the best neighborhood in Eugene. Friendly Area REPRESENT.
There’s more stuff I have to write — good news in the local food scene, but I’m feeling kind of tapped out with writing lately. I’m sorry. It’s the winter chill, I guess, plus my schedule, which isn’t as light as I’m making it seem (but still much easier than last fall). One major milestone: I did make more progress on my hateful pile of rotting leaves in the sunshine today; perhaps that will give me the impetus to stay inside and write tomorrow.
*If you want to check them out, visit the winter market at Hideaway Bakery — River Bend Farm has fresh eggs with beautiful, deep gold yolks. I was talking to Dick there on Saturday, and he told me that someone once returned their eggs because they thought something was wrong with them! Nope, that’s just the way eggs should look if the chickens are allowed to be chickens.