My book Chicken and Egg; A Memoir of Suburban Homesteading with 125 Recipes is officially out! I kept hearing reports from friends and family across the country from Boston to Bethesda to Kansas City that they’d seen it at their local Crate & Barrel store and they’d send me photos as proof. But it still didn’t seem real to me until I made the journey this week to our local C&B to see it on the shelves.
You’ll have to excuse the photography as I did my best with the less than perfect lighting available in the store, but there it was, beautifully displayed! The excited sales staff I talked with told me that, “It’s our favorite cookbook right now!” and “We all want to get one.” They all loved the photography and artwork. I agree, it really makes the book!
If you’re still waiting for the book to come to your area or your favorite store, don’t worry. The official release date was 1/26, which means the books should have left the warehouse on that date but it may take weeks before they’re actually on the shelves. You’ll have plenty of choices from Crate & Barrel, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Borders, Williams Sonoma, and Anthropologie and possibly more. Let me know when and where you see the book in your area and send me a photo if you’d like. I’ll do a shout out on Facebook and Twitter for you!
In honor of the book’s official release, next time I’ll share one of my favorite recipes from the Late Winter chapter in the book.
The chickens were not happy with me yesterday. Roxanne was particularly vocal with her complaints. It’s because I decided to put Vaseline on their combs and wattles to protect against frostbite. This “little dab’ll do ya” business has put us all in a bad mood.
The girls didn’t see the point. What they did see was me being mean and nasty as I smeared sticky goo over their crowns while they flapped and squirmed. Have you ever tried putting Vaseline on a chicken? It gets everywhere. I now have Vaseline on my coat and my gloves as well as their entire heads not just the intended parts. Of course the girls immediately tried to rub it off and I saw Ruby eating a glob off Roxanne. They’ll eat anything once.
If you’re wondering why I was doing this, it’s a matter of guilt. With the overnight temperatures predicted to be -15ºF to -20ºF I knew that even with additional heat the coop temperature would drop below freezing and I wanted to add as much extra protection as I could. Gail Damerow, the nation’s foremost chicken expert, advises “Coat combs and wattles with petroleum jelly as insulation against frozen moisture in the air.” Who am I to disagree?
Well, the chickens weren’t buying it and just looked at me accusingly with their sticky heads covered in bits of straw and food. I could almost hear them thinking “If you’re so worried about us, why can’t we spend the night in your warm cozy house?” I didn’t let them guilt me quite that much. I just put another layer of Vaseline on each one when I put them to bed last night.
As of this morning, the girls seemed to have survived the night frostbite-free. Thank goodness. However, they’re filthy dirty. Everything sticks to their heads and their feathers are black. I now have four grease balls bobbing around still looking at me accusingly.
This weekend? I’ll probably have to bring them inside for a shampoo, blow dry, and “comb out”. Life with chickens is never dull.
The new poultry catalogs started arriving in the mail this week and the chatter online has turned to baby chick orders. As I page through the catalogs I find I have a bad case of chick envy.
I’m not planning on ordering any chicklets this spring, but as I look at all the cute pictures I’m really tempted. The more you learn about chickens and read about the marvelous varieties available, the more you want to try them all. Chicken owners are much like gardeners with their new garden catalogs: each variety seems more promising and, like kids in a candy shop, we want them all!
The trouble with raising chickens in a suburban backyard is there’s only so much room, so you’re limited in how many chicks you can manage. I’m aware that plenty of backyard chicken owners start a whole new flock every year or two, but in order to do that you have to be willing to dispose of the original flock either by processing them (read: butchering) or giving them away. I’m not willing to go there with my girls. Hence, my options are limited.
Right now I’ve got four chickens who are laying like crazy in spite of the frigid weather. In fact, I can hardly keep up with all the eggs they’re giving us, so I really don’t need any more chickens. But I still can dream. Someday I’d love to have Marans for their dark chocolate-colored eggs, striped Barred Rock for their plumage, or Silver Spangled Hamburgs for their regal look. And of course I’d like to have Silkies just because they’re so cute. These tiny bantam chickens with black skin and feathers as soft as fur don’t take up much room at all. (Maybe……just maybe…..I could get a couple this year?)
If you’re wondering which breeds of chickens would be best for you, they all have their own qualities. While I love the elegance and the unique blue and green colored eggs laid by the Easter Egg chicks, my plain brown egg-laying Rhode Island Red hen Ruby has laid more eggs than any hen I’ve ever owned. And my Silver Wyandotte Coco is not far behind.
Good luck on your own chick hunt and let me know what you’re ordering. (I’ll be jealous, but it’s okay.)
As I mentioned, lately we’ve had almost more eggs than we can eat, so I’ve been eating an egg every day for lunch just to make room for the next day’s collection. I usually throw together a salad and top it with a 4-minute cooked egg. The combination is perfect and oh so satisfying, especially when you know the hen that laid your egg.
It’s hard to convince people this time of the year that keeping chickens can be fun when the weather fluctuates from freezing cold to nose-biting frostbite, gentle snow to blizzard whiteouts, and bone-chilling wind to hurricane-force gales. All in one day! No one wants to be outside—for any reason—let alone take care of chickens.
In spite of the weather, there is a certain sense of magic whenever I head outside to the coop, especially late at night. I must admit I’m not eager to take time away from what I’m doing to pull on my heavy winter jacket, Sorel boots, ear muffs, neck scarf and ski gloves and tromp outside into the cold. But once I’m outside I often linger. The backyard has a different quality in the winter darkness. The snow and ice luminously glisten in the pale light, making the snow look so fluffy, so precise, and so perfect it looks fake. The crunch and squeak as my boots cut through the path, however, quickly prove that it’s real as I head out to tend to the chicks.
Chickens put themselves to bed when the sun goes down (something most parents wish their children could learn), but I add extra light during the winter months so they’ll continue to lay eggs. I therefore head out around 9 pm to tuck them onto their roost and turn off the light (the light’s on a switch, so there’s no timer). They know the routine and are waiting for me. They’ve had their suppertime snack and are usually on the roost although flighty Ruby has a hard time settling down and keeps thinking I’m bringing her more treats at bedtime. But, eventually they snuggle down and I switch off their light then head back to the house. The short walk is quiet and peaceful. Yes, it’s cold and yes it’s hard to leave the warm house, but the stillness and gentle cooing of the chickens more than makes up for it. It’s often the best part of the day.
Bedtime snuggling right before lights out.
Latest Book News: My book Chicken and Egg has been spotted on the shelf in Crate & Barrel and is featured on page 60 of their latest catalog! I can’t wait to get over to the store to see it in person. Let me know if you catch sight of it.
I grew up in a family of three sisters. I was recently reminded of my teenage years and the hours spent battling over use of the bathroom with my two sisters as I watched three of my hens last week trying to use one nest at the same time. Watch the video below and you can almost hear their mutterings translated as “It’s my turn now—you’ve been in there forever!” and “I can’t hold it, I have to come in now!”
Ruby, the red chicken on the left, was the first one in the nest. She’s then joined by Cleo on the right, while Coco, the black and white hen, demands to be let in too. The video starts with Coco’s attempts to barge her way in. Listen to the gutteral cooing Ruby makes as she’s laying her egg (which sounds like growling in the video). Ruby finally manages to lay her egg through it all but watch carefully as Cleo seems to claim the egg as her own and even pushes poor Ruby out of the nest.
I must admit, chickens are a lot calmer than teenage girls, with no shrieking, shouting or crying. All three hens eventually laid their eggs that day and they’ve taken turns ever since.
The tension is building in the coop tonight. It’s cold and the girls are tired of being literally cooped up in the coop and the run. They’re used to having the entire backyard to roam in and this winter cold and snow is cramping their style. So they’re starting to take it out on each other.
Tonight when I brought the girls their suppertime snack they crowded around me as usual, each wanting to be petted while at the same time getting to the treat first. They started eating and I was tidying up the coop when I began to hear short little barks coming from below. As I looked down I saw Cleo giving a bark-like warning cluck while simultaneously nipping at the head of whoever got near her. There was no way she wanted to share her treat tonight and this grand dame was going to make sure that everyone else stayed away.
I think I understand how she feels. I’m getting a little crabby and feeling cramped having to constantly be inside too. We all need a break from this year’s vicious cold. Tomorrow I’ll give the girls some special sprouts to eat and something new to play in. I’ve saved some bags of dry fall leaves and they’ll have a fun time digging in those, at least for a day. I don’t think dry fall leaves will cure my cabin fever, however; if only it were that easy.
This is my perfect antidote to the winter blues.