Cooking an egg in it’s shell is one of the simplest cooking tasks, and yet so many get it so wrong. First of all, you shouldn’t boil an egg. When cooked at a high temperature, components of the yolk interact and a green ring forms. It’s edible, but ugly. Eggs should be hard-cooked, not hard-boiled. To do this, put eggs into a pot of water, making sure that there’s a good inch of water covering them. Bring to a full simmer, but not a rolling boil. Turn off the heat, and cover. Let sit for 14 minutes for small eggs and 16 for large ones. Chill the eggs in ice water and then drain and peel. The eggs will be firm, but not rubbery, and will have a beautiful yolk.

What you do not have to do is prick the end of the egg before cooking! I’ve seen this advice time and again, with the caveat that your egg will crack if you don’t. This is one of those myths that comes from a germ of truth. Years ago, before factory farms and cold storage, eggs were seasonal. Come winter and eggs were dear. A farmer would store eggs and sell in them in February, when the price was high. They used something called water-glass to preserve the eggs. Water-glass is a chemical, sodium silicate. When mixed with water, it forms a protective gel, which sealed off the pores of the egg shell. So, if you boiled an egg that had been sealed in such a way, the air in the egg would explode the shell – unless you pricked the end with a needle.

If your eggs do crack when cooking, it is likely that the shells were thin. Older chickens lay thin-shelled eggs. Even fed oyster shell for calcium, eggs from older hens are fragile. That’s yet another reason why commercial farms don’t keep chickens past the second molt. Egg breakage is too costly. I’ve learned to put the thin-shelled eggs gently in the egg basket and to not hard-cook them.

There are also plenty of myths about how to cook eggs so that they peel easily. Egg peeling ease is almost 100% a product of how old the egg is. The older it is, the easier to peel. Eggs less than 10 days old are always a pain to peel – the white sticks to the shell. This is because the membrane between the shell and white isn’t firm. So, if you want to hard-cook your freshly laid eggs, put them in a carton, label it with the date and store in the fridge for a week.

I have a recipe to share with you that uses hard-cooked eggs, but the eggs in my fridge are too fresh. So, I’m going to buy eggs from a small local farm and will post the results later this week.

What the road in front of my house looked like this morning.

Light snow and some freezing rain has fallen all day.

The dogs know what to do.

Early this morning the snow came straight down in fat, heavy flakes. Then there was freezing sleet. Now it’s a drenching, cold rain. The ground is slush. Simply put, it’s miserable out there.

My dogs believe that I am the source of all good things. But, I’m also the source of all bad things. This weather is my fault. At breakfast, Lily slunk around the house, glaring at me, willing me to fix things. I didn’t.  She’s settled onto her bed. Deep sighs. Baleful glances.

Sorry, Lily.

UPDATE: For a detailed description of how to use an epsom salt soak to (possibly) save an ailing hen, read my FAQ: The Spa Treatment.

Buffy was given to me five years ago. She was in a flock that was ruled by a killer hen. Each day that hen pecked another hen to death. She targeted the head. Buffy was next in line. She came here with a bald spot near her comb. It’s still there. Obviously, Buffy was under stress. I wasn’t surprised to note a messy vent runny with diarrhea. Fear can give the runs to anyone, even a chicken. In the years that I’ve had this peaceful chicken, that diarrhea comes and goes. Stress can cause real disease. My best guess is that it’s a yeast infection, possibly “vent gleet” or related to it.

It’s stinky. It freezes when the temperatures plummet. At the least it’s uncomfortable for Buffy. At the worst it’s a symptom of a problem that needs to be remedied. Yeast is something that is very hard to get rid of. Managing it and minimizing the outbreak is the goal.

Like so much of chicken care, there’s only a few items in the medicine kit, but they work on a multitude of issues. That’s good, because diagnosing illness really is a matter of “best guess.” In this case, I use epsom salts.

Epsom salt is a naturally occurring mineral, a combination of magnesium and sulfate. It’s soothing on the skin, and so is the choice for soaking baths if a hen has a dermatological issue. Epsom salt is also used internally. It detoxifies toxins, so if your hen has ingested a dangerous plant, or consumed botulism, or gotten into a poison, an epsom salt drench is the cure. It acts as a laxative, so if your hen’s system needs flushing, or if her crop is impacted or the digestive process seems blocked, this will gently move things along. It also controls yeast infections. It’s a general cure-all, so if you’re faced with a hen that seems weak in the legs, has a sudden loss of vigor, seems sick without having respiratory symptoms, epsom salt might help. It can’t hurt.

Over the last week I’ve noticed Buffy’s vent looking messier and messier; otherwise she’s behaving normally. It’s time for an epsom salt drench.

If, for some reason, you want to treat the entire flock, you can put epsom salt in their drinking water – use 1 teaspoon per cup. Leave it out for one day. (This isn’t something to feed on a regular basis.) But, since I only want to douse Buffy, I dilute 1 teaspoon of epsom salt in 1 ounce of lukewarm water. I have a syringe at hand. (This is a plastic syringe available at your local pharmacy.)

Hold the hen so that she is comfortable and her wings are kept at her side. Open the beak with one hand and squirt the liquid in her throat, a little bit at a time so that she can swallow. Don’t shoot it down her open gullet at full-force, or it could get into her lungs. Let her close her beak and swallow. Repeat. If some dribbles out, don’t worry. Wear clothes you don’t care about – she’s bound to shake her head and spray you. Besides, the reason you’re treating the hen is because of that stinky butt…

Dose her with most of the epsom salt mixture. Repeat again in about twelve hours or the following day. That’s it! If your hen is seriously ill, douse two more times. But, if that dosage doesn’t improve things, more won’t be the answer.

I’ve used epsom salt, now and then, for Buffy’s messy vent. It always makes it better. I also used it when she mysteriously became paralyzed. That recovery took months, but recover she did. I believe that she got into a toxic plant and the epsom salt is what saved her.

Have you used epsom salt? What’s your story?

Obviously, it’s still winter here. Snow is falling in fat, heavy flakes. The shoveled path, that had a bare spot of earth yesterday, is hidden again. The barn roof is white.

But the chickens are heading into spring. There’s more daylight, and that’s what matters. Yesterday, either Coco or Betsy laid a small white egg. The Polish are laying. Agnes and Philomena are laying. I collected four eggs. Four!

I’ve kept chickens for fifteen years and these winter eggs still give me a thrill. There’s an optimism in the air when there are eggs in the nesting boxes. It’s tangible proof that the seasons change – even this season of interminable snow.

Actually, it’s rather beautiful out right now. The old snow pack had become dirty and worn. This morning’s snow is soft and fluffy and hides all flaws. It comes down slowly, drifting through the air. I can appreciate the beauty of today’s weather because the hens have let me know, with incontrovertible proof, that this will not last and that spring is on the way.