Remember that very first egg we got from Zelda? That lovely blue/green “Easter Egg” for which we waited and waited? (and if truth be told, the one we eventually cheated on by buying an “egg-laying machine” because our girls were not laying yet?
With 7 family members at home (Spencer’s at college) who are all eating scrambled eggs these days, it’s not unusual for us to go through at least a dozen eggs a day (cholesterol be damned) and when I make an “egg” dish, I use anywhere from 4 – 8 eggs at a time. We eat eggs. After all, if you’re going to raise chickens, you might as well reap the rewards (and lower your food bill while you’re at it.)
But we don’t do that every single day and sometimes our eggs get backed up.
Our girls are productive, with 33 birds in our coop (still missing little Ives) we get anywhere from 12 to 18 eggs a day. This makes sense because even though we have some hardy birds (Ameraucana, New Hampshire Red, Black Sex-linked) which are bred for prolific egg production, we also have some smaller bantams, who although very pretty usually don’t lay eggs every one to two days that the others do.
Instead the bantams lay their smaller, more delicate often pastel colored eggs whenever the feeling moves them.
Rarely does one get 12 brown eggs from us. When we pack our eggs to give away we always have to include at least one of the smaller bantam treasures. All of our eggs come with a warning from us though, the very, very large ones might be double yolkers and the smaller ones might not have enough egg material in them to stand up to a recipe. Stay away from both if you are baking and need exact proportions.
Otherwise, have at it.
I’ve heard from one family that actually loves getting the smaller eggs. “Oh. My. God! They are soooo cute and the perfect size for “Toad-in-a-hole”. A recipe that has won my heart simply by its name. Toad-in-a-hole is where you cut hole into a slice of bread, butter both sides and then toast it in a pan. When the bread is nicely toasted on one side, you turn it over and and then carefully crack an egg into the hole. The goal here is to have a non-broken yoke.
Sprinkle with salt and pepper and call it breakfast.
I’m not quite sure why it’s called Toad-in-a-hole and not the more obvious but far less creative: “Egg-in-a-hole” but either way, it’s nice to know our little eggs are also appreciated.