In the month of Easter, it seems fitting to talk about eggs. And, of course, the first egg that comes to mind is the delightful Easter egg. After all, who doesn’t love an Easter egg? With chocolate, marshmallow and other gooey fillings, these eggs are a source of endless pleasure. And there’s so much you can do with them from moulding your own chocolate eggs, to painting and decorating them, having treasure hunts, making creative desserts and enjoying that melt-in-your-mouth moment. Yes, chocolate eggs are egg-cellent, but then they’re not really eggs… at least, not in the true sense of the word.
Real eggs – of the savoury variety that come from hens – are a little different to their chocolate counterparts. The ‘traditional’ egg as we know it with its hard, crusty exterior and soft, liquid interior falls into a very different basket. And, as with most things in life, there are good eggs and there are bad eggs.
When it comes to cooking and baking, I like eggs as much as the next person. Nothing beats eggs in the morning for breakfast and they are every baker’s best friend. From omelettes to poached eggs, quiche, soufflé, meringue, crème brûlée and custard, the possibilities are almost endless. There’s no denying that eggs are very versatile and useful.
But eggs are also icky and, sometimes, outright stinky! This is when happy egg moments turn into experiences that leave you feeling shell-shocked. Of course, I’ve had my fair share of inedible eggs. You know, those slimy eggs where the uncooked bits of white slide down your toast and drip onto your plate making you wish you hadn’t ordered a fried egg in the first place. Or the ones where there are suspicious red spots dotted across the yolk. And don’t forget those times when there’s a sudden, unexpected crunch as your teeth bite into eggshell. Eew! That’s enough to put you off eggs on its own, but it’s hardly the worst of it.
My worst egg experience happened when I was camping with friends. It was a lovely morning and we were all standing around a gas cooker making breakfast. I was put in charge of the eggs. So I grabbed the box and cracked the first egg straight into the pan. I think the smell hit me before I even saw the colour of the egg. It was the most rancid smell and the egg yolk was completely black! To say I was shocked is an understatement. I’d never seen anything like it. I didn’t even know egg yolks could turn black. Needless to say, the sight and smell sent most people running. It was so disgusting! And even though the mess was quickly cleaned up, eggs were no longer on the breakfast menu after that. With a putrid smell still hanging in the air, no one was really hungry anymore.
A close second to this was my encounter with a number of rotten eggs. I started buying a specific brand of eggs, which I liked until the day I cracked open a rotten egg. The entire egg was a watery, liquefied mess that looked like someone had half beaten it. And the smell that assaulted my nostrils made me want to gag. It was so awful my husband went running from the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, honey! I got this! I’ll just stay here and dispose of this foul concoction. Save yourself!”
Ah, the joys of being a woman. But that was only the beginning. Over the next few weeks, we were surprised by a few more of those rotten eggs and my husband became quite good at the 100-metre dash. You can run, but unfortunately there’s no escaping the stench of rotten eggs. It slaps you in the face before you can even get one foot out of the door. But, I guess, making a run for it is better than being left with egg on your face. After the horror of finding three or four eggs like that, I decided I couldn’t handle it anymore – and neither could my gag reflex. So I switched brands and we haven’t had a problem since, touch wood.
The fact is that not all eggs are made equal. Some eggs are good and some eggs are rotten, nasty things. The problem is you never know what’s waiting inside when you break that hard shell. So next time you crack an egg, remember to hold your breath, because those bad eggs are waiting to catch you when you least eggs-pect it.
Audrey Whyte 
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