On the farm

I started to eat vegan a few years ago. I was already vegetarian so cutting ALL animal products was fairly simple. I was never one to say I was vegan because I was still constantly learning about what was ethical and what was not. There are so many bi-products that are made from animals that the average consumer has no idea what they are consuming or where it is coming from. +Most people I talk to still do not even know what gelatin is made of+

This is the problem with food these days. People may think they have an idea where it is coming from but its probably far from the truth. Hence, people going vegan / vegetarian because those people took the time to truly find out where their food was coming from. One work can describe it: compassion. Compassion for animals, compassion for the earth and compassion for yourself.

I have a little obsession…

I grew up with raising chickens. My grandparents had a small chicken coop with a dozen chickens – give or take. I would help my grandma collect the eggs in the morning and feed them during the day. I would sit in the coop and talk to the chickens, I sang to them and some of them even let me pet them. I don’t recall ever eating one of our chickens… although my grandparents could have. They were a huge part of my childhood memory. A memory that I want to start having again.

It has been a dream of mine to have chickens again. And a huge garden. And maybe even a pig or two. A small farm.

Happiness.

Living the past 6 years in the city has made me realize I am a country girl. Always have been and always will be. My drive to get back to the country has been very strong the past few years. To get back to a place where I feel my heart is. My heart is not with the cold concrete buildings of the city.

Since eating vegan, I of course cut eggs out. Eggs were always a treat for me. I had them scrambled, fried, poached, hard boiled… I ate eggs a few times a week and enjoyed every bite.

And yes, I know where most eggs come from, the kind of lives those poor chickens live and I know what chicken eggs are. This is why I stopped consuming them. I love the chicken too much to see them go through such pain living in commercial slaughter houses.

But I always told myself that if I had my own chickens I would pay respect to my hens by enjoying their freshly laid eggs. My chickens would be the luckiest chickens… organic fed, a huge lawn to dig and peck in and a cozy coop to sleep in. My chickens would never be subjected to killing or consumption. They would be a part of my family.

They would be loved.

My dream is still a dream, for now. It’s rather difficult to have chickens living in a condo on the outskirts of Seattle. However, a short 20 minute drive and you are in farm country.

This is where I buy my eggs.

Yes. I am buying and consuming eggs. I have met some fantastic local farmers who raise their chickens the way I would. Feeding them organic feed, letting them have plenty of grass to play and run in and love. Lots and lots of love. I also feel good about supporting local farms in Washington state. They are becoming rare and even my small part helps in a huge way.

I consume eggs 1-2 times per week. I normally do not even think about eating eggs but there are times when I get a craving. I cook them the same every time: pan fried in a smidge of olive oil with fresh cracked pepper and sea salt.

With gluten free vegan sourdough toast from this local bakery. I pick up a loaf along with my carton of eggs.

Farm fresh eggs are the best. They taste amazing. Simply amazing. The yolk is a rich yellow orange color. I cook my eggs medium so I can dunk my toast in to the runny goodness.