My love affair with eggs began as a snot-nosed tyke, when I told Papa Scampwalker that "you make the bestest eggs that anybody ever had did, Dad." True story.
Over the course of the years, eggs and I grew apart like old college friends. I still liked them, I enjoyed their company when they appeared, but when they were out of sight -- they were out of mind.
Over the past couple of months, I've experienced an egg renaissance - a rekindling of the flame. It started, oddly enough, with a posting on the work bulletin board that screamed to me: FARM FRESH EGGS. It was posted by a co-worker, whose daughter had an assortment of egg-laying hens she was raising. In an effort to teach her a few lessons about free enterprise, her dad indicated he was taking egg orders for her, and they'd be delivered every Tuesday evening, for easy pick-up right there in the company parking lot. I'm not sure how successful she's been, but I hope she never quits.
Ever since my weekly egg fix, I've realized the power of the unrealized chicken. The beauty of farm-raised eggs is apparent just by opening the carton. No two are remotely the same. White, brown, mottled, bumpy, smooth... all different. Cracking every shell holds the promise of a potential double-yolker, and even the yolks of the single ones are sunnier than anything that you can find in a grocery store.
The recipes, of course, are innumerable, from the sublime cream scrambled eggs with black truffle to the proletariat fried egg sandwich to the fit-for-a-meal tortilla espanola. Here's one I'm presently gorging myself on:
Dill, Pepper, Dill, and Creamy Chevre OmeletPre-heat 10-inch, nonstick skillet over medium heat. Whisk two farm-fresh eggs, in a small bowl with ~1 tbs. of half-and-half. Spray pan with olive oil, and pour in eggs. Lightly salt and pepper, then add dollops of capricho de cabra (soft goat cheese) down the center of the omelet. Sprinkle chopped marinated red peppers (found on most grocery store olive bars), along with chopped fresh dill. Let egg set until semi-firm, then fold into thirds and flip. The chevre should just melt, and the egg should (mostly) firm up. Serve immediately, with strong french roast coffee and fresh-squeezed OJ.