A Goose Egg

Rod, a man who sits behind me in German class, gave me a goose egg last night. He lives on a farm that has been in his family since 1914, about 25 miles south of Portland.  Apparently he has geese and they have laid eggs so he brought in a paper bag filled with them. These things are huge. So this morning I cracked it into a bowl so that Luka and I could try it... and I have to admit I was pretty apprehensive once I saw how thick the yolk is, I could barely stir it with a fork. I eat eggs and meat on a fairly regular basis, but I was getting kind of squirmish at the thought of eating it- all I could do was picture those big long necked birds that chased us around West Moreland park a couple of weeks ago. But the egg was already cracked, and it would be wrong to let it go to waste. So, we scrambled it and each eat a quarter of the omelet (with lots of toast). It was good, the yolk was really yellow and has a stronger "yolk" taste than chicken eggs. Luka liked it, too. I would definitely eat another.