Recently my other baby brother called me and said “Sis you want some pullet eggs?” Absolutely! Nothing better than those first eggs that are laid, the practice eggs, some are different shapes more round than oval, it takes a young hen a bit of practice to get it right!
Those eggs were really good, flavorful and the yolks were golden orange. I have not had good eggs like that in years.
It brought back lots of memories: Gathering eggs, faking out the mean hens to get their eggs, washing eggs and putting them in flats…I think 2 1/2 dozen would fit in a flat. Some of the flats were a gray color and some were purple and you could stack them up. From there they would be packaged into the customers egg cartons. My Mom raised chickens and eggs were sold at our house to friends and neighbors.
My Dad would cook me up an egg or two for breakfast in the winter…over hard or a broken yoke either suits me just fine. It beat the heck out of porridge..which at our house was Oatmeal or Cream of Wheat.
When I think of someone washing eggs I think of my Mother’s Father sitting on the porch washing eggs. I sometimes helped him, grabbing a soft cloth to wipe the poop smears off the eggs. Poop wasn’t so bad, bits of straw stuck to the poop and then to the egg was like removing a piece of cement. You had to be really careful with those eggs…they would easily crack. Grandma used up all the cracked eggs mostly in baked goodies. Nowadays I wouldn’t use a cracked egg…but back them we didn’t think anything of it.
I looked for a photo. I found one of my maternal grandparents chicken coop and grainery. That is my grandfather in the photograph along with his chickens and several of his kitty cats:)