My neighbors, the Grouts, raise chickens. A few weeks ago, they placed a sign in their front yard advertising, “Fresh Eggs. $2.50/doz.” I told Eric that the next time we need to buy eggs, we should purchase them from the Grouts. He agreed. “Doesn’t get more local than that,” he said.
No, it doesn’t.
So we’re down to three eggs in our fridge. Not nearly enough to feed Eric, his friend Dave, and his brother-in-law Gary, who are both here to fish and turkey hunt. So I went to the Grouts’ this evening, handed over $2.50, and got a dozen eggs. Alden said they’d taste like no other egg I’d ever had. His son Max warned me that the eggs might look more orange than the pasteurized eggs sold in the grocery story.
I can’t wait to have one for breakfast tomorrow. I’ll think I’ll fry it, with bacon.