The other day, I came across an entry in my November 2016 journal that chronicled a strange occurrence. Here it is:
I bought a couple dozen eggs from the grocery store. Although I prefer fresh from the hen when I can get them, in a pinch old, non-fresh store-bought eggs are the alternative. The brown ones were on sale, so they made it to my grocery cart, naturally.
This past weekend I boiled a few to use in a potato salad. After they were done, and I ran them under cold water to peel, pieces of something akin to paint came off the shells as I rubbed them gently.
So – this mean that these eggs weren’t naturally brown but painted so each one was uniform and brown in color. I’d say that advertising these as brown eggs is a sham, and I feel gypped.
Things aren’t always what they seem.
©2022 Colcannon Metropolis, Aren’t They Just!, Points Well Taken, You’re Table is Ready.
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What the heck! They must have been laid by gypsy chickens.
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No doubt.
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