With both Passover and Easter upon us, it seems an opportune time to consider the egg. Pop anthropology tells us that the egg is a symbol of rebirth, hence its association with the festivals of Spring. Surely there's something to this, but if it's just about rebirth, why would you paint eggs for Easter, or roast them for the Seder plate so one end is singed? There are stories to explain these customs, but how do we know whether the story fits the custom or the custom was developed to symbolize the story? What came first, so to speak, the chicken or the egg? We may never know for sure. Painting eggs at the Spring equinox is a tradition that goes back at least 2500 years to the Persian Nowrooz celebration. In some of the older Christian traditions, Easter eggs were dyed, but always red, to symbolize the blood of Christ and human redemption. The Eastern Orthodox faith holds that the hard shell represents Christ's tomb, and that cracking the shell symbolizes his resurrection.
The singed roasted egg on the Seder plate at Passover is said to be a symbol of mourning, as eggs are the first thing served after a funeral. It also refers to the destruction of the Temple, and represents the animals that were sacrificed there. But it seems a bit counter-intuitive for an egg to symbolize mourning, while simultaneously serving as a symbol of birth. And it is a particular mystery why you would use an egg to symbolize a sacrifice of meat, unless you have, of course, developed a taste (and it's an acquired one) for those hard-boiled eggs in salt water. The salt water, by the way, is supposed to represent the tears shed by slaves in Egypt—or maybe it's the Red Sea, or the primordial soup from which life emerged. The layers (no pun intended) of meaning seem infinite. Personally, I've come to accept the Marxist view, which reduces everything to a material cause. After raising chickens to collect their eggs these last several years, it is, to me, undeniable that one reason eggs are associated with Spring holidays is that eggs are, in fact, a seasonal crop. You might not realize this because the supply in the supermarket never changes. But we who employ pre-industrial production methods that allow hens to rest in the winter, rather than use artificial lights to induce laying, have learned to live with months of scarcity. The sheer crush of egg production in Spring must have compelled our ancestors to develop rituals that made use of them.
At Turkana Farms, our birds are predominantly Rhode Island Reds, known to be excellent layers. They are proving worthy of that reputation. Our more exotic hens, the Sumatrans, Spitzenbergs, Feverelle and Araucana, some of whom have been with us for six or seven years now, each lay maybe one or two eggs a week, at most, and this represents a big increase after months of no production at all. (We don't cull our older birds when they become less productive.) In contrast, our Rhode Island Reds, even the older ones, are producing almost as fast as their new, younger neighbors, at the remarkable rate of nearly one-per-day. Some days, we collect as many as 4 dozen. Our brown eggs are not great for dyeing, but they are wonderful for eating, especially as, recently, the chickens have been on the receiving end of the first spring weeds. So if you're planning eggs in salt water for your Seder, or are about to bake an egg bread for Easter, we are ready to serve your needs. —Mark Scherzer
