On our way home from the strawberry festival, after driving through the little downtown of Norwich in which all was quiet (it’s Sunday) except for Dan & Whit’s general store (“If we don’t have it, you don’t need it.”), we drove up Turnpike Road, kept going until it turned to dirt, and saw a sign: “eggs.” We slowed down, and stopped at the table where a young neighbor was selling eggs and chocolate chunk cookies.
We bought a dozen eggs and two cookies. The eggs came from two breeds of chicken: New Hampshire Reds and Araucana. The Araucana’s eggs are a pale greenish blue. I boiled two for lunch, and found when I peeled them that the inner shells are a deeper turquoise. The yolks were the color of black-eyed Susan petals.
My parents’ house is about a half-mile further on Turnpike Road. It’s satisfying to eat a lunch so fresh, and in hues I’d love to paint.
The Roving Locavore 