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Cher amis et
chères amies,
Which
came first—the chicken or the egg? I’m not going to even attempt to answer THAT
age-old question. Roosters are scarce here in centre ville Grenoble, but there
are pigeons aplenty. Walking down the street, I often ask myself a zillion pigeon
questions. Where do they sleep at night? Where do they lay their eggs? Do they
nest in trees? Are there pigeon coops hidden somewhere out of view? Do they
carry bird flu? Why didn't they eat the stale baguette end that I left on the little balcony? Their world is one of life’s mysteries. And probably one that does
not merit as much thought as I have given it.
But my
curiosity is aroused by a different matter involving my favorite meal of the
day—petit déjeuner (breakfast). Compared to America, breakfast seems to be almost ignored in France. Good
luck finding a Denny’s Grand Slam Breakfast. If a café is open before 9:30 am, la carte (the menu) will usually offer café (coffee), either strong in a very small
cup or in a bowl with plenty of milk, chocolat
chaud (hot chocolate) in a bowl, jus
(juice), des pains (breads), croissants,
des viennoiseries (pastries), and
sometimes, bière! Des oeufs (eggs)
are sometimes available on a breakfast menu—if you’re in the right place. Check out McDonald's P'tit Dej' for a comparison.
A peek at
the TV commercials gives a glimpse into French breakfast preferences. Laughing
fathers spread fromage à tartiner
(sort of a cream cheese) on a piece of bread and tease their adorable daughters.
Images of dads, flipping breakfast pancakes and frying up eggs in the kitchen—n’existe pas (don’t exist). Eggs are usually
only served for déjeuner (lunch) and dîner (dinner), not usually for
breakfast.
However, in
our Franco-American cuisine (kitchen),
eggs are a staple. That’s why it was essential to
figure out the “egg-xact” French egg classification system. (Sorry. I couldn’t keep myself from
using that bad pun.)
French eggs come ready to read. The outer carton (see top photo) tells you what you would expect—brand name, number of eggs (6, 10, or 20—it’s unusual to see dozens), the living and laying conditions for the hens, and the à consommer de préférence avant le . . . “best by date.” But when you peek inside, you’ll find a lot more. Each egg has a food-grade ink stamp with all the codes you need to know about your little oval bundle of protein.
Signed, sealed, and delivered |
The codes
range from 0 to 3: 0 for bio (organic),
1 for plein air (free-range hens),
2 for œuf de poules élevées au sol (hens raised
in barns; indoor free-range), and 3 for œufs de poules élevées en cage (hens kept in cages;
the font used for the package for these cheaper and less humanely produced eggs is usually VERY
small). The letters indicate country of origin (FR for France), and the last 5
letters/digits identify the farm where the eggs were produced.
But if this
information is already on the carton, why go through the trouble to mark each
individual petit oeuf? The story is
that unsold, unmarked eggs could be easily transferable to cartons with newer “best
used by” dates. The consumer could be fooled into buying less than fresh eggs. This keeps the producer traceable and accountable to the consumer. It
warms my heart to feel so protected.
Voilà!
Everything you needed to know about the French eggs in your frigo—if that’s where you keep them.
It’s recommended to refrigerate your eggs after buying, but eggs are sold in
the store, at the market, or from the farmer’s hands, unrefrigerated, and their
shells are usually not cleaned. Beurk!
(Yuck!) I can imagine the gagging going on right now.
Many of us
are accustomed to the United States Department of Agriculture’s directives
regarding the cleanliness of eggs (they must be cleaned before packaging), as well as the grading of eggs, which is
based on both the interior quality of the egg and the appearance and
overall condition of the egg shell. They are quality-rated AA, A, and B;
and sized peewee, small, medium, large, extra-large, and jumbo. But these
things that concern the USDA wouldn’t pass muster in most of Europe. In fact,
US eggs would be illegal here. Why? It has to do with sanitation. Or rather,
“oversanitation.” (Is it possible to be TOO clean?)
What it
comes down to is that research has found that washing eggs removes the
protective cuticle that is “an effective barrier to bacterial ingress with an
array of antimicrobial properties” (EU
egg marketing regulations: Have fun reading). Making those eggs clean and pretty
removes the protective “safety net,” and they become more vulnerable to
contamination by pathogens and other micro-organisms. That’s why it’s important
to refrigerate those sparkling American eggs that we all so admire. I do pop
our French eggs into the fridge when I bring them chez nous (our home), but I don’t wash the eggs before cracking
them. (So far, salmonella has not shown its nasty face in our fridge.)
For now, we
prefer our French eggs au naturel. We
don’t want to carry anything to the “eggs-treme.”
(Click to open the link to my movie of the eggs that got away, then click on the picture.)
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