The Story of a (Pastured) Egg

Pastured Eggs

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.

Pastured Eggs Twitter

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.

Color of Yolks

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.

David Leite's signature


  1. I get my free range eggs from a fellow out here in Cookeville TN. I pay $1.75 a dozen and get about four dozen every month roughly. I’m not a big egg eater, but I do use them for cooking, and add them hard boiled to my dog’s food when I make that. Seeing those beautiful orange yolks are something to behold after having been raised on the store bought variety.

  2. Usually when I hear any of the food Nazi’s buzz words I tune out but I’m totally with you on the eggs. When I lived in Key West the chickens wandered around town freely and I remember one lady saying she used the eggs to make an angel food cake and it turned out orange. The island is only two miles by four miles but the chickens have full reign. Now that’s pastured.

    1. I hear you about food Nazis. I wanna get all PETA on them. But I think taking small steps like this–pastured eggs–and making sure we’re eating animals that have been humanely treated and dispatched is a good thing.

  3. I purchase eggs from Stone River Market here in Smyrna, TN. We are just outside Nashville. It is an online market that several local farmers belong to and we are so fortunate to get pastured eggs, local meats, veggies, etc. Some of the restaurants in Nashville that use the farm to table concept use the same farms for meats and eggs. There is also the Nashville Farmers Market in Nashville, and the Franklin Farmer’s Market in Franklin, TN. Thank you for this article that will be an eye-opener for many. I use buy free-range and cage-free eggs also until I found out what those terms could really mean.

  4. I buy my pastured eggs from Holley Farms near Reno, NV. Here’s an article our local co-op wrote about the eggs. When you see the nutritional benefits…well, it blew my mind. I pay $9/dz and am happy to do so. Both for my health and also to support local farmers and ranchers.

    1. Catherine, thank you for adding your local source to our list. I hope it helps anyone in the Reno area. And I think everyone should read the lately descriptions in the PDF you supplied. It’s very informative.

  5. I love this! After learning about the horrible conditions laying hens lived in, I went out and got some girls of my own. They run all over the place and eat everything in sight! I have more eggs than I know what to do with, but I love knowing I have happy chickens that will never know what it’s like to live in a cage!

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