• Posted by Califia Suntree on June 23rd, 2008, 5:32 PM

    I had a Sunday breakfast fit for royalty–a fried peacock egg. Rather, a fried peaHEN egg. Not as huge as a goose egg or as rich as a duck egg, it was still dramatic and lovely. And it’s just impossible not to feel special breakfasting on peafowl eggs. I had the pleasure at my friend’s family’s beautiful digs in Bucks County, PA, where they have an assortment of birds whose diverse eggs always make for a memorable meal. What you see here are two peahen eggs with some tiny little eggs from the lone chicken hen left, among a veritable gang of exotic roosters, after a recent and apparently grisly fox attack.

    I can’t find much on the Internet about eating peahen eggs, but apparently fancy folks in the MIddle Ages ate the peacocks themselves in the Netherlands and Britain, and it’s rumored they still do in Asia. There’s also this must-read article from the October 25, 1971 issue of TIme that tells of an extravagant dinner thrown by the Shah of Iran–featuring roast peacock stuffed with foie gras. (Though the best part of that story may be the $100 price tag on a bottle of 1945 Chateau Lafite-Rothschild!) I’ll stick with eggs…

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