I was planning on making this a weekly thing, but for the next few months I feel blog posts will be fairly sporadic, bare with us! We lost an absolutely amazing woman to Cancer in January. Our granny was the most spectacular lady - unbelievably hard-working, loyal, courageous, brave, blessed with green-fingers, encouraging & creative. If you ever wondered where any of us got our work ethic or love for farming from, you wouldn't have to look much further than Oma & Opa. January was a particularly tough month for us all, and we'd like to thank everyone for their kind words & support.
The transition from Winter to Spring is always subtle to begin, but when Geese start laying eggs, we really start to notice it. When we started selling goose eggs, it was more as a novelty to have on the stall than anything else - very few people trust an egg bigger than their hand. A few years on and we have trouble keeping a weeks supply on the stall for more then 30 minutes. We describe them to people as being "richer & stronger" than a duck egg, but they're so much more than that. Geese lay at a time when all vegetables, herbs & salads stand still in the cold. The first goose egg in the new year signifies the end of winter to us - the days are lengthening, the daffodils are in full bloom, new seeds will soon be sown. They will stop laying when Spring has well and truly sprung, when we don't need something to push us through the cold end to winter anymore.
Anyone who has ever eaten one can agree that a "regular" hen egg will just never be the same. Goose eggs are about 4 times the size of a hen egg, with an orange yolk big enough for a whole baguette to dip into. We just simply fry them, with a bit of flaky salt, ground peppercorns and buttery hot toast - the ultimate Monday morning* breakfast. They also make the most spectacular omelettes, big enough to feed two hungry people.
*As we are up at 630am to work at markets all weekend, we have our "weekend" breakfasts on a Monday!
Speaking of winter "ending" (I know many of you may be laughing at this , as it is currently -1 outside, but the days aren't as dark and the evenings brighter, so i'm staying positive on this one!) Myself and Aoife picked the most spectacular baby rhubarb just before Christmas. The unseasonably warm weather in December encouraged the rhubarb to grow when it should have still been dormant. I'm not complaining. Rhubarb, along with pumpkins, is one of my favourite foods, and this baby rhubarb was the most spectacular I've ever eaten. About the size of my index finger, shockingly pink, and so, so sweet. We ate a few stalks raw, and roasted the rest with just a small drizzle of honey to grace our Christmas Day pavlova. It was another little teaser of what lies around the corner...