I think it’s fair to say that I’m not a proselytizer. I don’t cram sustainability concepts, politics, or ideologies down anyone’s throat. Quite the contrary. I’m heinous at dinner parties. The minute I see someone starting to climb up on a soapbox of any kind, I look for the nearest bottle of Scotch (of which there are usually many) and a pack of matches. A little immolation always brightens up a dull evening out here in Connecticut.
Then this past weekend I attended the annual conference of The International Association of Culinary Professionals in Chicago. One of the keynote speakers was goat farmer, filmmaker, photographer, and writer Douglas Gayeton, who along with his wife, Laura Howard-Gayeton, founded The Lexicon of Sustainability. His message was about how words can influence, cajole, move, and ultimately change a person’s behavior. Having worked for The Dark Side (aka advertising) for more than 18 years, I know firsthand how true this is. I sat rapt, listening to Douglas speak, adoring his deeply affecting photography, and watching—and, I admit, sometimes wincing at—his films.
The one short film that I found extraordinarily powerful is “The Story of an Egg,” because it honors what is, for most of us, a fridge staple. For years I’ve heard stories of the conditions laying hens are subjected to, but I didn’t want to be exposed to it. Ignorance is life’s barbiturate is how I looked at things. The One and I still did our part. We prided ourselves on going from buying generic eggs to consciously choosing first cage-free eggs and, more recently, free-range eggs. We considered ourselves progressive—superior, even. We were part of the army of well-intentioned consumers doing the right thing, smiling our members-of-the-club smiles at affluent dinner parties. Having known how advertising co-opts legitimate terms and converts them into fuel that runs the moneymaking machines of huge corporations, though, I should have been suspicious. But, like Donna Reed, I was content to love my man, make our gut-busting breakfasts, and clutch my faux pearls while looking down demurely when someone complimented my cooking.
Gayeton’s message, and the message of the farmers in his film, is that humanely, economically, and ecologically sustainable eggs come from chickens found in pastures—and no place else. Here they live outdoors, pecking at bugs, seeds, worms, and other gnarly things of their choosing. The uncorrupted term is “pastured eggs.” Cage-free eggs, the film demonstrated, were produced by chickens who, rather than being stuffed into small mesh cages with so many other birds that they couldn’t turn around (or, in some cases, not even touch the bottom of the cage), were lucky enough to be crammed into a huge pen filled with hundreds of their brethren, pecking and walking though mud and excrement. Free-range, which sounds so wonderful—so American it could be part of our Constitution—simply means thousands of factory chickens are offered a single door to an outside cage the size of most people’s mudrooms. Yee-haw!
I was so affected by this that the day after I arrived home, I sent out an all points bulletin on Twitter asking for information about local farms that raise pastured chickens and eggs.
My assistant, Annie, and I scoured the Internet. I made a few phone calls to local chefs. In the summer, The One and I usually ride up to Toplands Farm, where at the end of a meandering dusty drive is a red cooler containing a mishmash of reused cardboard cartons filled with fresh eggs. A splintered honor-system cashbox sits nearby. I always assumed these eggs were the real deal, as their yolks are the color of the original orange Crayola crayons, not that “sun-burnished wheat” hue found in eggs languishing in supermarket coolers. Now that I know better, I need to investigate further.
I know what you’re thinking. First: Damn, dude, what’s taken you so long? (All I can do is quote my old shrink: “Denial works.”) And second: Pastured eggs, chicken, and beef cost a fortune. In some places, they cost triple the amount of food that comes out of those chambers of horror that feed so much of America. If you can’t afford pastured eggs, no problem. You need to feed, clothe, educate, and provide for your family how you see fit. And if that doesn’t include pastured eggs, so be it. But for those of us who can afford pastured eggs and meats, I say, let’s do it. Let’s search out those farms, roadside stands, greenmarkets, stores, and online resources that sell true, honest, pastured food.
To that end, please use the comments section to tell me what venues you buy your pastured eggs from. It doesn’t matter where you live. It doesn’t matter how frequently—or infrequently—you buy eggs. What matters is that readers have a list of resources to turn to when they need it.
Now, anyone have some Scotch and matches? You may commence lighting my soapbox on fire.
Your article has been one of the best I have read. I have soap boxes and often jump on them with out thought to those around me. I will keep the Scotch and matches close by.
We raise our own chickens and sell eggs to friends and co-workers. We have two farmers market where great eggs and meat can be purchased. Wichita’s Old Town Farmer’s Market and Kansas Own Market. Both in Kansas.
Thanks, Rachael. None of us is in the same place, so being understanding is the only way to go.
Hi David, I don’t know where you live, but if you live in New York City, you must dine at Candle 79 for a truly elegant and sumptuous vegan meal.
Batya, actually I do have an apartment in NYC, and I have, indeed, eaten at Candle 79. Expensive, but very lovely.
For those in the Seattle area, PCC Natural Markets (local co-op/grocer) carries local pastured eggs and chickens, as well as locally sourced animal products and organic fruit and veggies. They are always happy to let you try a product for free and are helpful and knowledgeable. And for everyone out there, eatwild.com has a database of local CSAs and local meat/dairy sources; their list is not all-inclusive (my favorite local scottish highlands grass-fed beef supplier isn’t there) but they do have many farms listed.
Thanks, meganmonty, for the tips!!
I live in a small town in rural WV. I buy my eggs at (are you ready?) at the local marble and glass store, which sells them for a lady who raises hens in her “backyard.” We’re too country out here to call it pasture lol. I pay $2.50/dozen and I use them for everything. Folks in WV can find pastured eggs in their area by using wvfarm2u.org and entering “eggs” in the “find a product” box.
How lucky you are, Deborah. I hope that lady’s backyard is big!
We live in Concord, MA where there are still some local farms that sell pastured eggs. I buy mine at Codman Farms in nearby Lincoln where you can see the chickens running about. Codman Farms, BTW is the former family estate of Ogden Codman Jr. the famous interior designer and co-author with Edith Wharton on a book of the same subject. The house is now part of Historic New England where one can tour the farm and/or the house.
Hi Karen. Thanks for adding to our roster of farms that produce pastured eggs. Much appreciated. (And such a beautiful home!)