Eggs-tra special.

When I read The Omnivore's Dilemma, one of the most fascinating chapters of the book describes a self-sustaining farm: Polyface Farms. The owner calls himself a "grass farmer" because though he keeps livestock, it's the varieties of grass he was able to cultivate on a previously barren slope that keep the farm running. It's an amazing concept: cattle graze in a rotation that simultaneously keeps food in constant supply, spreads fertilizer evenly and keeps the cows out of their own waste. Chickens follow the cattle, eating grubs from the cow pies and enriching their own eggs, all the while keeping flies and disease at bay (a common issue for cattle who stand in stalls rather than grazing pasture). Pollan describes other fascinating (if not mildly unappetizing) ways that different species of livestock live symbiotically at Polyface, and the whole dance keeps on keepin' on. When he describes Polyface Farms eggs, he describes them as "standing tall" when you crack them to fry (not spreading out in the pan -- a sign of "muscle tone"), tastier (and more nutritions), and a brilliant orange color (from the pastured chicken diet).

Polyface Farms is located in Swoope, VA, which means that their produce is sold at farmers markets, through co-ops, buying clubs and farm box distributors right in my neighborhood. My friend Carly told me about a tiny corner store near her apartment (the P&C Market), a charming gourmet food store with imported cheese, jams, candies, and other novelties...which also just so happens to sell Polyface Farm eggs. Of course, I couldn't help myself -- I had to see the muscular, orange, pastured eggs for myself. My curiosity cost me: my egg-stravagant purchase rang up at nearly five dollars for the dozen.

I brought them home and eagerly set up an experiment with two pans on my stove: a side-by-side egg fry, Polyface Farms' Pride vs. Harris Teeter's Cheapest by the Dozen ($0.99). On the outside, Polyface eggs are, without question, prettier. They come in beautiful shades of brown and cream, looking every bit as lovely and pastoral as you'd imagine farm eggs. Harris Teeter eggs are all a plain white, with the occasional digital stamp on the shell.

I'll admit: when I cracked them into the pans, I was a bit disappointed at the relatively similar colors and "muscle tones."

They both fried up nicely (with a perfectly molten yolk center), and I enjoyed them both. The Polyface egg undoubtedly had a different flavor -- a bit sweeter, almost a floral taste. But my Harris Teeter egg was pretty good as well (maybe Harris Teeter gets good eggs anyway?)...I was even expecting the Polyface egg to "win" by a mile, and you know how expectations can make small differences seem larger-than-life.

For my first experiment, I suppose I was a bit disappointed. The next test is to bake something with two different types of eggs and see if their chemistry is different (the book claims that Polyface eggs made incredible soufflés...more on that to come).

Still, I'd love to visit the farm sometime. If you can make the drive, you can even pick out your own chicken to bring home. The concept of a self-sustaining farm is incredible, and such a departure from the concentrated animal feeding operations (CAFOs) we know so well today.