Happy Hens: Your Guide to Cage-Free Eggs
Written by Jean Johnson
For Spring 2007
MOST EVERYONE KNOWS that egg-laying hens on large corporate farms don’t have the greatest lives. But few realize these birds are among the most abused animals in the world of factory farming. Nearly 300 million chickens in the United States—95 percent of the laying hen population—are confined in batteries of cages stacked 10 high in huge barns. These birds have less room than a standard-sized sheet of paper and cannot even flap their wings.
When it comes to doing unto our animals, America lags light years behind Europe. Sweden abolished all confined animal farming back in 1988, and the European Union is now moving in a similar direction. We’re coming along, though. After the Humane Society of the United States publicized Ben and Jerry’s use of eggs from caged hens, the ice cream maker pledged to shift to cage-free eggs in the U.S. beginning in 2007. “We’ve used cage-free eggs in our UK plant for some time,” says Ben and Jerry’s public relations Grand Poobah, Sean Greenwood. “In Europe, mainstream consumers have an appreciation of where their food is sourced from.”
One problem with sourcing in the United States is labeling designations—which, with eggs, can run the gamut. While cage-free refers to hens that have the run of the chicken barn, organic eggs requires that the birds have access to outside pasture. That said, many Portland-area growers are small enough to circumvent formal regulations and use their personal integrity to attest to humane treatment.
“We sell our eggs really quickly at the Portland Farmers Market and to CSAs, and we just call them pastured eggs on our sign,” says Chris Roehm of Square Peg Farm outside of Forest Grove. CSA (for Community Supported Agriculture) consists of a community of individuals who provide support to a farm up front and, in turn, receive regular deliveries of seasonal, fresh produce.
“When people ask what pastured eggs means, we say that we feed our hens certified organic feed and they have access to the outside, where they eat bugs and grass, whenever they want it. The hens’ consumption of greens, especially grass, is the key to great eggs. Grain-based feed, pelletized or otherwise, provides protein, energy, vitamins, and minerals, but the grass provides the omega-3s and yields the brilliant orange yolks.”
Roehm explains that Square Peg Farm may apply for organic egg certification going forward. “As our operation grows, which it has to do, we will lose the ability to have personal contact, so a certified label will become a valuable marketing tool. We’ve avoided it so far in part because organic food has become commodified by these huge companies. We’re more focused on local and seasonal.”
On the other hand, Stiebrs Farms in Yelm, Washington is large enough to supply eggs to New Seasons, Whole Foods, People’s Food Co-op, Burgerville, Cup & Saucer Cafe, and Sunshine Dairy. “We’ve been certified organic since 1999. It’s something we believe in,” says Kiasa Stiebrs Kukendall, who handles the cage-free and organic side of the business.
For her part, Nita Graf Wilton of Graf Century Farm is just in from gathering eggs and there’s a brace of brisk air in her voice. “We sell to upscale restaurants like Higgins, clarklewis, and Le Pigeon, as well as to the 47th Avenue Farm CSA, and they know how we take care of our hens.”
“We used to be certified organic,” Wilton adds, “but it seems the rules are made by those who don’t understand farming. We can’t call our birds free-range because they are in movable, quarter-acre enclosures that we rotate around to fresh pasture. Also, we don’t use organic feed because it’s gray and pelletized and processed. Instead we get ground grain from a Willamette Valley grower, and you can see the bits of real corn and kelp in there. We’d like it even better, of course, if the grain was grown organically.”
GUILT-FREE EGGS, PORTLAND-STYLE. I’m thinking of a primavera frittata. A handful of slivered snow peas, a bunch of spinach, and a thinly sliced onion. The cast-iron skillet is on medium high. In goes a miserly bit of extra virgin olive oil and the onion to soften and darken for 10 minutes, then a splash of balsamic to finish the candying. I amp up the heat momentarily to flash the pea pods and wilt the spinach, all the while adding just enough water to keep the works from sticking.
The heat back down, in go the whisked eggs fresh from a reputable Portland-area grower—a half dozen for every two to three cups of veggies—seasoned with salt and pepper. I cook stirring up from the bottom for three minutes before running the works under the broiler to finish. With a pinch of ruddy paprika and a crumble of Oregon blue cheese straight from the Rogue Creamery, this guilt-free primavera frittata will keep the fans coming back—and the hens that laid the eggs happy.
Jean Johnson is a Portland-based freelance writer who cooks local food harvested by those who respect the land and its creatures.






Comments
That frittata sounds so good right now as my stomach is growling. And thanks for the information on eggs. Very helpful!
Posted by: Lizzy | May 18, 2007 11:58 PM