Andy and I have wanted to keep laying hens for a long time. We decided this about 18 months ago, but knowing that we’d be moving to Malawi and then to Boston, thought better of investing time and money into “setting up” only to move a year later. Sadly, we temporarily shelved our dream of keeping chickens until we were more settled in the States.
When we arrived in Malawi I told Andy I wanted to get a dog, just a pet to have around, to feed our scraps to, to have as a watchdog. But then Andy had a better idea, “Why don’t we just get a few chickens?” Genius. This was the perfect opportunity to practice and see what it’s like having chickens. At the end of the four months anyone would happily take these chickens. Furthermore, the set up costs would be relatively cheap, so the financial investment would be far from onerous if the experiment crashed and burned. And even these set up costs would be offset by the money saved not buying eggs.
So we finally got our chickens a few days ago. They are beautiful – all big, brown and wonderful. It was a bit of a mission getting them home, but they are now relaxing in their new home. Although I think they were nonplussed by the 40-minute journey in a cardboard box on the back of a three-tonne truck down bumpy dirt roads.
Andy called his chicken ‘Floppy Top’ as the red bit on her head flops over. I called my chicken ‘Chimwewe’ which means “be happy” in Chichewa and Emily has called her chicken, ‘Good News’. This is sort of an inside joke. A friend of ours here has a son called ‘Good News’ and we have loved this name for months. We’ve kept the hens inside for a couple days just to let them get adjusted and I think we will let them out today. We’ve had two eggs so far!
Yesterday, Andy and I had the first two eggs with breakfast. We each had a thick slice of bread, toasted and well buttered with a fried egg on top. We swear, it did taste better, but I’m sure most of that is in our mind. But I think knowing what my hens eat, how they live and how well we treat them (yes, I go in the chicken house and talk to and pet them), this is what makes them taste better.
My grandparents on my father’s side were farmers. I was a typical kid growing up in the sixties, so it was bad news, good news when I was told we were going to Mama Skipper’s and Grandaddy’s. As an only child, I was used to quiet, but it was country quiet there, and the only thing to do was watch TV on their ancient rabbit-eared fuzzy black and white, which was usually more work than pleasure.
As a city kid, however, I looked forward to a few things at their house. I loved helping my grandmother fry chicken and make biscuits. She taught me how to cut up a bird and use my knuckles to flatten the little dough balls in the pan.
In the summer she’d let me gather vegetables from the garden. I liked picking big things like tomatoes, corn, and watermelon, but green beans and okra were too tedious. (If I were a kid today, I’m certain I would have been diagnosed with A.D.D.)
My favorite activity was gathering eggs from the chicken coop. For a little girl who had only looked for dyed eggs in obvious places, this was a real egg hunt!
So with those happy memories, I actually think I’d like raising chickens. There’s the gift of fresh eggs everyday, and in exchange I would happily name them and feed them and love them. When you get home maybe?
And here’s a great seasonal brunch recipe that uses lots of eggs, perhaps not for Africa, but I’m sure you’ll put it to good use once you get back to the US.
Orange Cream Cheese Strata with Cranberries and Walnuts
Serves 12
12 ounces cream cheese
1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated orange zest and 1/4 cup juice from a large orange
9 large eggs
3 cups half and half
2 tablespoons, plus another 2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup dried cranberries
12 to 13 slices cheap fluffy white bread, such as Wonder
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup orange marmalade
With a hand mixer, beat cream cheese and orange zest in a medium bowl, adding 1 egg at a time, to form a lumpy batter. Beat in half and half, sugar, and vanilla (Batter should still be lumpy).
Spray a 13-by 9-inch Pyrex or ceramic baking dish with vegetable cooking spray. Line pan bottom with 6 slices of bread, fitting in additional bread, cut into strips, to form a tight fit which keeps the strata from puffing unevenly. Pour 1 cup of the egg mixture over the bread, then sprinkle with 1/2 cup of the cranberries. Make another layer with remaining bread (and strips, if necessary). Slowly pour remaining egg mixture over bread. Cover with plastic wrap, then lightly weight the casserole (or lightly press on it with your hand a few times) until bread has almost completely absorbed the milk mixture. Let stand 15 minutes. (Casserole can be refrigerated overnight.)
Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Before setting the casserole in the oven sprinkle with walnuts and remaining cranberries, lightly pressing them into the bread. Bake until casserole is firm and puffy, 35 to 40 minutes.
Meanwhile, warm marmalade and orange juice in a small saucepan.
Remove strata from oven, let stand for 8 to 10 minutes. Cut into 12 to 15 portions and serve immediately with orange sauce.
In theory, I like the idea of having chickens.
I’ll never forget hatching chicks in Mr. French’s 3rd grade class. We watched the eggs under a heat lamp for weeks until the little creatures finally started pecking their way out. Because our family’s house was right across the street from school, I was chosen to bring them home for Easter break. I recall carrying them home and setting them up in my room and thinking to my 8 year-old-self, “This is the best thing that is ever going to happen to me.” (Thank God that didn’t turn out to be true.)
I spent hours in my room playing with them and petting them, but by the end of break they were starting to grow into teenager-chicks with functional feathers poking out from underneath their buttercup-yellow fuzz. Also, their cage was full of poop and I was tired of changing the newspaper, and their incessant chirping at night was becoming less and less cute. I was so ready to get rid of them when school started again. (Maybe Mom and Dad were right not to get me a puppy…)
Like most people, I love cute baby animals, but the minute they don’t fit in the palm of my hand anymore, I’m pretty much over it. I think, if I were going to get chickens, they’d need to be full-grown, functioning egg-factories when I brought them home, so there’d be no time for me to pine for the cuteness past. After all, fresh eggs are pretty awesome, with their rich, intensely, orange yolks; and there is nothing cooler than the idea of going out and grabbing one from the backyard, cracking it into a pan, cooking over easy and laying that sucker on top of a piece of toast, a pile of grits, some pancakes, maybe even a hunk of Styrofoam—let’s be honest, a fried egg improves pretty much anything.
I support the idea of Maggy getting chickens when they get back! I am hoping, as the aunt of these theoretical chickens, I can reap all the benefits without having to do any of the work—kind of like when you have kids, too, Mags.
I had to laugh. It reminds me of summers at my Slovak grandmother’s. I spent so much time out at the chicken shed, talking to the hens and roosters (and getting serious sunburns). Then one day my favorite chicken was missing. I couldn’t find her anywhere. I went running into my grandmother’s hysterical about where Fancy went. And then Grandma, unperturbed, simply pointed to the frying pan……..
My neighbor keeps chickens in his custom-built chicken coops. When there’s an abundance of eggs, I’m the lucky beneficiary. This strata looks t.l.f. (to live for).
I married a country boy and we moved to the boonies about 18 months ago. We do not have chickens but our neighbor has gorgeous chickens and ducks. Whenever I need eggs, I just send my kids over with an empty carton. We have an arrangement with them. We let them use our tractor to till their garden and bush hog their field. In exchange, we get all the eggs we want.
I adore the beautiful variety of colors and sizes…the brown speckled ones and pale green ones and these little tiny bluish grey ones with their tangerine-colored yolks. This past summer, we made omelets with fresh eggs and just picked veggies and herbs from our garden (my first ever) and it was amazing. I found myself wishing I had milk goats so I could make my own goat cheese to go on them. I was quickly brought back to reality when my husband asked if I had ever actually milked anything.
As soon as we finish our pasture fence my husband wants a few head of beef cattle. I’m definitely a carnivore but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat something I’ve cared for and raised.
Pam, I hate picking green beans, too! Next year we are only growing one row of them. We were a bit overzealous with the beans this year. I got so tired of picking that I let some just wither and dry up on the vines.
That strata looks perfect for a Christmas morning breakfast!
We love keeping chickens. Fresh eggs are the best! And if you feed them a diet of 1/2 wheat they will taste EVEN better. There is not much better than a nice healthy hen house. Best Wishes!
Josh and his wife brought their NJ kiddos to TX last spring. One of our fieldtrips was to a friends house. They live on 8 acres, lots for suburbia, and had all sorts of farmy animals. They sent us home with a basket of eggs. To my total surprise there are not only white eggs and brown eggs, but many hues of lovely color, along with some speckles and such. They were so beautiful in their simplicity. One was a smokey blue. That proved a tad confusing for my older nephew who declared he couldn’t wait to open his blue egg and get the candy out!
Dear Maggy,
My little sister keeps chickens and the eggs really are better!
Rae 🙂
Pam, I’ll never forget the weekend that you and David visited us, and Shea was raising chickens. Jess got a bucket of water, took “Butter” the chicken and tried to teach her to swim! Aunt Pam to the rescue!!!! Shea will never forget how you took that shivering “drowned rat” chicken, put her on your chest, wrapped a wash cloth around her and rocked her back to health. She was good as new — wonder if Maggy and Sharon realize how multi-talented their mom really is!
Thank you, Susan–a nice reminder that maybe I could be good with chickens.