We now have eight eggs of varying shapes and sizes. The feathered ladies have been busy in the last week and a half, and I don’t think that’s a bad haul for such young birds.
So last night we took the plunge and cracked open the first four. Two each, boiled so we could dip them with soldiers.
We’ve spent so long thinking about the recipes we might follow with our new-found source of eggs that we hadn’t really considered what we should do with the first ones. Plain boiled seemed most appropriate in the end, as it means you can taste them on their own without any sauces of add-ins.
And they certainly tasted good. The yolks were rich – in both colour and flavour – and even the whites, which are so often just a bulky filling in a shop-bought egg, had a taste all of their own.
Well done chucks. We should really have opened one of the bottles of elderflower champagne to toast your success, but you wouldn’t have appreciated it. Not that that’s really the point.
Either way, you’ve earned yourselves some kitchen scraps tomorrow.
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