When I was little and I lived in the sticks, the farmer who lived nearby would leave pheasants hanging at our backdoor, and his wife would leave duck eggs.
If we got to them before the dogs did, Mum would make scrambled egg.
I turned my nose up at it - the lurid yellow scramble just didn't look right.
Oh how wrong I was.
Now I realise, there's nothing worse than pallid scrambled egg, over-whisked to a dull, mucousy hue and served pitifully on some sorry-looking piece of toast. I'd sooner scrape it off and reach for the Marmite.
But oh, the sunflower yellow of duck eggs, so rich and so delicious.
Sadly I don't find mine on the doorstep any more, but from farmer's markets stalls, and Waitrose does a good line in unusual eggs. These were Clarence Court free range eggs - Gladys May's Braddock Whites. They're not as yellow as some duck eggs, but still flavoursome, and by all accounts they are happy ducks - left to roam and swim in the great outdoors.
If the happy hens are anything to go by on the farm's hen cam, these birds are ladies of leisure...
How to make my scramble: break two eggs per person into a jug, whisk with a fork to just about break up the yolks, chase around a warmed buttery pan on medium heat with a wooden spatula and finally dump onto some toasted Whole Foods sourdough spread with lightly salted butter (or in this case, multi seed Paul). Top with cracked pepper. Dive in.