When you’re little, the world is filled with a constant riptide of experiences both big and small. Umpteen moments of “firsts”. First few steps. First smell of the sea. First feel of raindrops. First sight of fallen snow. First taste of chocolate. First ride on a bike. First day of school. First crush. First heartbreak. As we grow older, the first time trying something, seeing something, tasting feels more fleeting. There’s no longer a shiny new adventure at every turn. We have to seek it out. Until – the other day, when I was greeted with an unexpected surprise. The other day, I ate my first egg.
Or I should say, the other day, I tasted my first egg. A real egg. A bona fide farm fresh egg. An egg so good, its mama surely is the happiest hen in town. THIS is what an egg was supposed to taste like. And all this time, I thought I was eating pretty well…buying organic, free-range eggs from the local Island grocery store. How sadly I was mistaken.
My monumental discovery was right under my nose this entire time. A neighbor’s home, within walking distance, down the small country road that winds its way to our house. A stone’s throw away. A home I’d driven by hundreds of times, tacked with a sign, I’d read silently in my head, just as many times. FRESH EGGS. Heeeelllllllllo. What was wrong with me? The day I finally came to my senses and stopped in, the owner had sold out of the eggs he gathered that morning, but promised more by evening once his next batch had been cleaned and rinsed off. I waited impatiently and several hours later, I returned to discover the prettiest dozen eggs I’d ever seen. Light green ones, the color of watery sea glass and Easter eggs, dotted in-between the usual suspects. Eggs laid, gathered and eaten — all in one day. I’m a happy girl. Unbeknownst to my neighbor, he’s become my new best friend. Do you have a memorable “first”?
(I’ll be back soon with a favorite method to prepare these gems).