There really is a difference in how your eggs are raised

Until Mathew started eating solids, I never gave much thought to where my eggs came from. Yes, of course, chickens. But I never thought about how they were raised, what they ate and if they had space to roam free and forage. Were the chickens that laid our eggs happy and healthy? Then I met Jennifer of the “Little Egg Farm.” Her eggs were so different from any store bought eggs I had ever came across. The yolks were bright orange, the color of a summer sunset, round like a basketball and so flavorful. When I cooked with them, they changed the color of what we were eating; our French toast was golden. There was no way to escape the orange glow, nor would we want to. I knew there was something different about how she raised her chickens. Jennifer and her husband own a small family farm and let their chickens forage the garden and land while supplementing their diet with organic feed.

About the time I starting enjoying Jennifer’s eggs, I read “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” by Michael Pollan, which further opened my eyes to the importance of knowing where and how our food was grown. The book simply reinforced that Jennifer’s eggs were raised in the way nature intended. They were simply awesome. When raised properly, eggs are whole foods, prepackaged sources of carbohydrates, protein, fat and micronutrients. Their high nutritional value should not be surprising when you remember that an egg contains everything needed for the nourishment of a developing chick. It makes me think of daily dose of multi-vitamins.

All eggs are not raised the same and labels can be confusing.

Let me clarify a couple of things:

Unlabeled grocery store eggs: are from factory-raised chickens that live in small wire cages, their food and water are in the cage, they do not roam outside the cage. The chickens are fed a mixed diet of grains, corn and hormones to fatten them up. They are given antibiotics to reduce infections that occur since the chickens live in unhealthy conditions.

Factory raised egg

 

Cage-Free: yes, the chickens are not kept in cages and the doors on the barn are open but the food is kept inside. Even though they have access to fresh air, sunshine and room to roam, the chickens rarely journey outside the barn and forage since their food is conveniently located in the barn.

Cage-Free egg

 

Free-Range: another way of saying cage-free.

Pastured: chickens are allowed to forage the land for food, which is part of a varied and complex diet that’s better for the chicken and nourishes their eggs. Their diets are supplemented with grains and corn.

Pastured egg

 

Since we moved away from the Rondout Valley, I have been on a mission to find pastured eggs as rich and tasty as Jennifer’s. Simply put – I cannot. Yes, I have found really good eggs but not Jennifer’s. I have recently found two close seconds, one from a family who are cultivating a small family farm similar to “Little Egg Farm” and another are from a more established family farm called “Remembrance Farm.” Their eggs are delicious and have a beautiful shade of orange but still they are not Jennifer’s. So what is Jennifer’s secret?  She must be the “chicken whisperer.”  I know what she does but no one has been able to reach the same delicious level. Perhaps, her talent combined with the land, and what she grows on her farm could give us a glimpse into her secret. Whatever it is, if you are in the Stone Ridge, NY area, do not miss out on “Little Egg Farm’s” eggs.

 

Craving change (observing change) (part 2)

Streets of Newburg, NY

I had asked the Universe for a change and that is exactly what happened. After doing a phone interview for a seasonal position at a wildlife sanctuary in Maine’s Northwoods, I received an offer and a 2-page list of all the responsibilities necessary for the position. Truthfully, I had no experience with more than half of the items on the list but accepted the position, packed up my stuff, put them in storage and drove up to Borestone Mountain Wildlife Sanctuary sight unseen. Folks ~ it was the best decision of my life.

View from the summit of Borestone Moutntain.

View from the summit of Borestone Moutntain.

When I accepted a position at Borestone Mountain my life instantly changed. I went from working with people in need on the streets of Newburgh, NY to Maine’s Northwoods. Instead of being surrounded by people, congestion, pain and helplessness, I was surrounded by trees, beauty, and the magic of nature. It was the perfect change for me ~ exactly what I needed.

I answered an ad for Assistant Manager of Borestone Mountain Wildlife Sanctuary that was run by the National Audubon Society at the time. I lived on top of a 1600-acre mountain with a naturalist and three interns in a cabin with no electricity and gravity fed water. I was not hired because of my Masters degree in Environmental Studies, although it didn’t hurt, but rather because of my work with the mentally ill. Among my numerous duties, the most important was that I acted as the liaison between the public and current manager. He was a very passionate man and a faithful steward to the mountain, but his people skills left a lot to be desired. Every year, before I arrived, the staff had abandoned the mountain before the season was ever over. After years in the military, he was used to giving orders and wasn’t able to support and communicate appropriately with previous staff. Something had to change, and that change was me ~ a tree hugging social worker.

There really are countless gifts that I learned and received during those six months but the best was becoming intimate with the mountain. Since there was no electricity (although I did have propane mounted lanterns, stove and refrigerator) my days started with the sun rising and ended within a couple hours after it set. Although the location was remote, Borestone was an annual destination for many families and day hikers. I heard countless stories of generations of families who made their annual pilgrimage there. Which is rather special since it is a fairly remote location. To give you an idea of how remote it was: Picture this ~ Mount Katahdin (Maine’s highest peak) is the terminus for the Appalachian Trail. Monson is the first town after the 100 miles of wilderness, which starts at Mount Katahdin. Borestone is 9 miles outside of Monson. I was really in the boonies. I heard more noise from prop planes flying by than cars.

Although the duties were numerous and often physically demanding, there were moments of great solitude and focus. Some days, when I supervised the Nature Center, hikers were few and far between. I would take these opportunities to sit by the dock and observe. These precious times allowed me to see the Red Spotted Newts mate.  Later on, I was granted the pleasure of watching the brightly colored Red efts make their way out of their aquatic world to spend the next 2 years in the forest. I could sense their internal struggle as they floated on the edge between the water and shore, bobbing back and forth not comfortable with the change that was pulling them to the forest. Some would drift by the edge for hours. I could imagine their internal dialogue, “I must go into the forest but no, the water is my home, how can I leave, but I must…” It reminded me of all the people I knew fighting the change they needed for them to grow and thrive. Change appeared very difficult for the Red Efts. It was no doubt a life altering experience (for me as well as them).

I also had the honor of observing dragonflies releasing themselves from their aquatic exoskeleton; it was magical beyond words. The process took nearly two hours for them to emerge from their aquatic home. First, they found a place to anchor themselves (most of the time it was the side of the dock). Then they would break open their exoskeleton along their back and push out, at one point it would flip its body out, on top of its exoskeleton so that it ended up face-to-face with it. Once they anchored their new feet, they very slowly pumped blood through their body expanding their wings. They would then sit and dry in the sun and at the perfect moment take flight ~ yes, magical indeed.

Mathew on top of Borestone

Mathew on top of Borestone Mountain

Everyday I would hike to the summit to make sure all was safe and there were no issues. When I returned 18 years later with Mike and Mathew, I actually remembered certain rocks, lichens, moss, trees, bends in the trail and the feeling in bones of being in a magical land. All had burned an everlasting home into my brain. It felt like I was visiting old friends. Borestone Mountain was and is still a glorious sanctuary for life.

(End of part 2)