KevinTV

Food-skatchewan, Part II

08.26.07
This morning, before returning home, we made a quick stop at the neighbor’s place to pick up some more eggs. My dad started supplying me with them a couple weeks ago, grabbing some on his way back from his frequent visits. So I’ve been eating an awful lot of their eggs lately, and taking some photos of where they came from seemed mandatory. But these chickens were dang cagey, so you have to enjoy a photo of their..laying barn? Is that a word? I’m a city slicker. And please. Nobody tell them $1.50 for a dozen fantastic free range eggs is underpriced. I do feel a slight pang of guilt for not buying from my ‘usual’ egg supplier – but at nearly a third the price, and arguably nicer quality than what I already deemed fantastic, the cheap-ass in me demands I shift loyalties. The yolks are dark and rich, and what’s amazing is the white is so…’stiff’. It stands nearly as tall as the yolk. Very strange. Very fantastic.


And this was a lovely shot, asking to be taken. The folks who own and run the golf course, and also own the farm with the chickens, dry their onions on the fence that keeps the deer out of their fantastic garden. They also serve a Sunday buffet breakfast at the clubhouse. Tell me this. How many places do you go for breakfast where they cook you up some eggs from their farm, and some potatoes from their massive garden. Ashamedly, we did not partake this morning in their buffet, settling for french toast made with their eggs, topped with some of the local clover honey we sourced yesterday – washed down with a stiff coffee. At 5am. But next time – I’m in for some farm buffet. That’s a $9 breakfast I’m willing to pay for.


And this is evidence that having babies makes you stop to smell the roses. Or at least stop to pick the rose hips. While the little one was being fed in the truck on the way home, I jumped out, eager to see what I could pick out of the ditch this time. And hey – they’re edible, and were perfectly ripe. I think. They smell extremely similar to a crabapple. Not sure if cooking them down will yield anything worth writing about, but I’m willing to give it a shot.

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