la.foodblogging

It takes a lot to cook an egg. You have to understand the egg in order to cook an egg, especially if it’s one you want to eat.
– Marco Pierre White
For the past three months or so, I have been searching all over the area for the eggs you only read about in books. You know, the ones with thick shells that stand an inch tall on a plate when cracked, the yolk brimming with a bright orange hue so iridescent it makes you scratch your head in awe.

Unfortunately, they remain elusive. Pictured above are the two closest specimens I have been able to find: from a friend’s true free-range hens (left) and Lily’s ‘free range’ eggs from the Hollywood farmer’s market (right). Even in this small comparison you can see the difference between them; the ones on the left are more richly-colored and plump, while the ones on the right are paler and more petite.

So why all this fuss over eggs? Some would probably call it an obsession, or that an egg is an egg is an egg. I just want to know where they come from.

As an avid home cook and baker, I use a lot of eggs. It goes in my pastas, sauces, pie crusts, custards, and souffles. However, like most other Angeleno foodies, I am also concerned about the environment in which the eggs are laid. What are the hens fed? How old are they? Do they roam around the fields freely, or do they merely have ‘access’ to the outside? All these factors directly affect the quality of the egg, from its size and shape to its color and behavior when being cooked. The details of this association are pretty well-documented in books like Edward Behr’s The Artful Eater and Joel Salatin’s myriad books on pastured farming, so I won’t go much further into the details. Suffice it to say, a good egg comes from a hen with a healthy, balanced diet and lots of room to exercise.

In the kitchen, I’ve found that with the better eggs, you don’t need as many to get the job done. Take, for instance, a custard — egg yolks, sugar, vanilla, and cream — where eggs are the sole thickening agent: if a recipe calls for six yolks, I’ll usually only need four of my best eggs to get the same texture as a custard I would make with other eggs. This, in many cases, justifies the added cost, as the price premium for ethical peace of mind turns out not to be so steep.

Take it up a notch, using as many eggs as the recipe calls for, and my egg white-only souffles never fall — even if I hit them with a spoon.

Still, I am on the hunt for those fleeting eggs of legend. Does anybody know of a good farmer in the area? Here’s a list of what I’ve found commercially so far, my favorites listed first:

1. Lily’s Eggs, $4.50/dozen. Raised in Santa Barbara County, sold at the Hollywood farmer’s market, and marketed as ‘true’ free range eggs. Usually packed the day before market. Small, but nice, dense, and richly yellow. Grade AA.
2. Eggs at the South Pasadena farmer’s market, $2.50/dozen. Raised in Riverside and marketed as free range. Large, generally firm and yellow, but a bit inconsistent in quality. Still, a good bang for your buck. Grade A.
3. Mike & Sons Eggs, $2.50+/dozen. Raised in Ontario and sold at the Pasadena Victory Park farmer’s market. They are grain-fed and not marketed as free range, but they are large and fresh. Yolks are a bit on the small side. Grade AA.
4. Trader Joe’s Organic Jumbo Free Range Eggs, $3.29/dozen. Origin unknown. Although these are marked as jumbo eggs, they are mostly whites, with the yolks about the same size as the ones found in Lily’s Eggs. Also, the yolks look about the same color as those found in Mike & Sons eggs. Grade A.

As for my friend’s eggs, I can’t disclose where they are raised, but the girls eat what they want and have unlimited freedom to roam. If I could get these all the time, I would.

sneakypeteiii is a doctoral student in Chemistry at Caltech. He has been eating since he was a child, and reckons himself quite good at it. (see more of his posts).