Eggsactly!

        I am reminded of a hilarious situation that developed a few years back.  It was at a time when we were rather fed up with the competitive antics of the local supermarkets and so we tended to be quite selective when buying any of their goods.  Eggs were a case in point and we would rather not buy the pale and rather insipid objects that passed for fowl fruit in those days.  It came as a nice surprise therefore when checking a box of eggs to find six brown beauties that begged to be eaten.  At tea-time it just had to be boiled eggs with toasted soldiers.  Back home I prepared the pan just like Mum taught me, cold water with a dash of salt and a splash of vinegar.  In went the eggs, on went the heat, and when the water boiled the timer was set for four minutes.  It was when the eggs came out of the water that the trouble started.  As I transferred the first egg from the slotted spoon to the egg-cup my thumb rubbed across the surface of the egg and I was astonished to see the colour come off leaving a small area of perfectly white shell underneath.  So I rubbed another part of the egg and the same thing happened - in fact the colour peeled off.  The second egg was the same.  What could it be?  The immediate thought, in view of the current price war, was that this was another supermarket gimmick.  They were painting the eggs to make them look more attractive and therefore more saleable.  Tea was forgotten.  The colour peeling eggs were vital evidence. 

        Next morning a call to the Trading Standards Office was treated very seriously. "Had we got the eggs ?  Were we prepared to give evidence if necessary ? Would we be in if an inspector was to call ?"  It was all very exciting.  At about four in the afternoon the inspector arrived and it was clear that he had been quite busy because he had a box of half a dozen eggs from all the supermarkets in town.  He looked at our evidence, tut-tutted sagely, and then asked if he could observe us boiling some eggs as we had done the previous day.  So we set up the experiment and the inspector selected a brown egg from two of the boxes he had brought with him.  In they went and out they came at the appointed time and when they were rubbed the colour came off.  "This is incredible" said the inspector, "I have never seen anything like it.  We might have a case here."    He was visibly excited and, having taken our statement, departed promising to keep us informed of events. 

        A few days later we visited some friends who kept chickens and, having related our story, were presented with a box of "real" eggs so that we could enjoy the kind of tea we had planned the week before.  Back home everything was prepared, in went the "real" eggs and out they came at the appointed time.  And guess what?  The colour peeled off and these eggs were definitely just as the chicken had produced them.  Oh dear what to do now?  Two or three days later we had a call from the Trading Standards Office saying that they would be sending a copy of the report of the Public Health Laboratory that had investigated our complaint.  This proved to be a very official looking two-page document signed by several very important people with titles like professor and director.  Their consensus was that the problem was caused by the complainants habit of including vinegar in the water used to boil the eggs.  

        We kept our heads down for a few days after that.