My eggs are as good as they can be. Not my womby ones, my fridge box eggs. I used to be vegan-anti-egg-eating, but I eat them now and try my best, to buy the best – the price for ‘good’ eggs is of course more than Netto’s 12 for 99c – but I believe you vote with every purchase you make for the kind of world you want to live in and so I pay 50c per egg and eat just eat less of them.
It’s a laborious task, tracing the origin of our produce, but it’s very important to me so I do it. It can be difficult not speaking very good German to ask questions and get information; I often end up doing comical clowny, pantomime movements at people hoping they understand I’m asking if the little boy chickens are killed – I’m often met with blank stares and so just leave egg-less. But today I had a minor victory in my quest.
In the Berlin Markthalle Neun there is a little stall that sells the eggs I dream of. Organic, free-roaming, non-little-chick-killing egg farmers, from Germany. They even describe on their website how each clan of hens has a cock who helps with social stability, that they are looked after by Frau Blum und Frau Eckelt and once a week they get fed a bottle of the bizarre fermented wheat drink Brottrunk . I’m completely won over by their narrative of the chickens life, even if they do admit that once the chickens are really old they are killed to make chicken soup and Fricassee….
Where do your eggs come from? Often you can type in the code from the egg into a search engine and find out, have a look, be curious, see where your money is going, perhaps you will enjoy your omelette more knowing that Frau Blum is feeding the chickens Brottrunk under neath the Cherry trees – or your vegan and don’t eat eggs at all – salute. But I do, it’s the path I’ve decided to take and I want the best eggs I can find.
Stadtgut Görlitz is my happy egg famer. Maybe I go visit one day and see for myself what it’s like.