On the Social Climbing of Eggs
It has been brought to my attention that the humble egg —once content to arrive in a modest carton and behave as breakfast— has undergone a most ambitious transformation.
We no longer purchase eggs.
We select affiliations.
Cage-free. Free-range. Pasture-raised. Omega-3 enriched. Heritage breed. Brown. White. Speckled. Organic. Regeneratively inclined. Possibly enlightened.
It is unclear whether we intend to make an omelette or declare a moral philosophy.
Observe, if you will, the modern shopper. Intelligent. Capable. Fully employed. And yet suspended before the refrigerated case, calculating not merely price, but virtue. With one wrong selection, we risk appearing insufficiently conscientious —or, worse, insufficiently informed.
How very exhausting.
There was a time when an egg was judged by a simpler metric: did it fry properly?
Now it must also testify.
Let us be honest. The hen is not personally overseeing our enlightenment.
And while certain distinctions are indeed meaningful, the performance surrounding them has grown theatrical. Every carton insists upon superiority. Every label implies a quiet indictment of the others.
We begin to suspect the egg has ambitions beyond its station.
Might I suggest a scandalous remedy?
Select a standard you understand. Choose it deliberately. Repeat it without apology. If it aligns with your principles and your budget, you have done your duty.
Breakfast need not be a referendum on our character.
After all, civilization was built on far less curated poultry.
And the omelette —when properly made— rarely asks questions.
