I did it. I finally tried the duck eggs.
Buttons started laying eggs early in September and I've been too scared to try them. Part of it was worry over whether I'm collecting/cleaning/storing them properly. Part of it was the gross factor.
I'm a little weirded out by eggs as a concept ever since Buttons started laying them. It just seems more ewwwwww now.
On top of that, I am NOT an adventurous eater and I'm not even a big egg person (I have to be in the mood for eggs) so being adventurous with eggs is frightening.
Nonetheless, I decided that it was time to try them. (I've been collecting them for a month.)
So, this weekend I made scrambled eggs for breakfast. I pulled out two pans and made store-bought chicken eggs in one and home-plucked duck eggs in the other.
I wasn't sure my husband and stepson would be keen on trying them, particularly before their morning baseball game, so I made enough chicken eggs to feed them and enough duck eggs to feed me, plus some extra in case anyone else wanted to try them.
(Hint: They didn't. In fact, my husband freaked out more than I expected, so I spent the rest of the weekend teasing him about how I was stepping up as the tough one in our family.)
Because I've heard that duck eggs have a stronger flavor than chicken eggs, I wanted to do a side-by-side comparison. I prepared both kinds the same way- scrambled with a little cheese melted on top and halved cherry tomatoes for the last minute of cooking. (I like the tomatoes to still hold their shape and be a pop of refreshing amidst the cooked eggs.)
Then I put a spoonful of duck eggs on my plate and one fork-full of chicken eggs for comparison.
I ate a bite of duck eggs first. It was pretty good. By that I mean that it tasted like scrambled eggs.
As my second bite, I ate the chicken eggs. They tasted exactly the same (which seemed both impossible and improbable to me). The third bite (and all subsequent bites) were duck eggs, and they all tasted the same to me.
The point is I tried them. I survived. I didn't even turn into a duck.
The other point is my husband is a wuss. (A cute wuss, but a wuss all the same.)