We’re walking on eggshells over here. 

And *crunch crunch* I do mean literally. 

It’s not that the figurative, emotional sense isn’t frequently applicable too, as my two- and four-year-old have significant developing yet to do in their self-regulation skills. When Kiah has an evening of continually falling off chairs and dissolving into a floppy mess at the thought of eating a bite of supper, all I can do is grin ruefully, admit she didn’t get a nap, and walk on patience-filled eggshells until her overtired body is safely zipped into pj’s and tucked into bed 47 times. Benson’s emotionally tenuous times tend to be a little trickier, as they can happen at any moment, and honestly sometimes we just go ahead and tromp on those little eggshells, knowing they’ll break and we’ll just clean them up again. 

A broom doesn’t work so well with those emotionally sensitive situations, but it is essential for the other, real eggshells. Little Miss Me-Do-It is still functioning at high capacity, at least visions therein, which creates an entertaining correlation with her obsession with hardboiled eggs. 

Due to some unforeseen yet certainly not undesirable circumstances, our flock of laying hens has continued to be just that, laying. Usually by this time of year, or far earlier, the ladies have lost their motivation for providing us with eggs; the arrangement starts to feel very lopsided, as their feed consumption, fresh water need, and ability to trash every flowerbed all stay very high. I can get very salty, very fast. 

But this winter, we are drowning in eggs, and it’s my table and floor that get real salty. Kiah must of course grind her own salt for her own hardboiled eggs that she’s “peeled” on her own, leaving carnage, eggshells, and salt crystals in her wake. She often gets lost in the joy of the job, determined to peel all the available eggs, whether or not anyone is planning to eat them at this moment (and of course Benson is morally obligated not to eat them if she’s the one who peels them).

If Ki peels half or less of the egg along with the shells, we’re doing pretty good. When I see she’s on a roll, I try to have her put the peels into a clean bowl so I can attempt to salvage some good egg fragments, but she knows the shells belong in the garden compost bucket so it can be a losing battle. While eggs are plentiful like this, it’s not a big deal, as long as I don’t mind sweeping the floor again. 

Hardboiled eggs are a super simple, healthy, and easy-to-stomach protein source, especially for us pregnant women and little kids; often you can find farm-fresh sources for a local footprint (ours are right outside our door…). There are probably thousands of ways to make deviled eggs, and I love stews or curries that include hardboiled eggs. And of course they are easy to toss onto or into a salad — my favorite part of potato salad will always be the chunks of egg, which I suppose is why I like egg salad so much too. My kids just want them plain with salt and pepper, and when the cousins come over, they might eat three or four apiece without even any salt. 

All of these methods, of course, involve separating the hardboiled eggs from the shell encasing them. As such, I can assume we will be walking on eggshells over here for quite *crunch* some time. 

To a Tea Eggs

While I too find plain hardboiled eggs oddly appetizing, I don’t mind switching things up a bit. Think of these tea-brined eggs like the Chinese version of pickled-beet-eggs, maybe? I needed a side for with Asian-style noodles, and remembered some soy-cured eggs I’d made once. Tweaking a bit to incorporate both marinating recipes landed me here, and even my skeptical husband came around to them. I made them twice for company this past week, both times with surprised yet positive reviews, so now it’s your turn to try them. 

Prep tips: if you need someone to help peel your eggs, Kiah’s your girl; otherwise, if you peel them while still slightly warm, the shells should slip right off. 

 • 1 dozen eggs, hardboiled and shelled

• 3 cups water

• 3 bay leaves

• 3 star anise 

• 1 tablespoon looseleaf black tea

• 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes

• 3 tablespoons brown sugar

• 1 tablespoon rice vinegar

• ¼-½ cup soy sauce

Gently put eggs in a large glass container (I used a half-gallon mason jar). In a small saucepan, combine all remaining ingredients and bring to a boil; simmer for 10 minutes. Let cool, then pour over eggs, lid, and marinate in the fridge for at least half a day but up to 4 or 5. 

Lettuce Eat Local is a weekly local foods column by Amanda Miller, who lives in rural Reno County on the family dairy farm with her husband and two small children. She seeks to help build connections through food with her community, the earth, and the God who created it all. Send feedback and recipe ideas to hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.