I was halfway through making scrambled eggs one lazy Sunday morning—you know, just moving on autopilot—when I cracked open an egg that practically glowed.
Golden yolk eggs.
I’m not kidding. That yolk was deep golden orange, like it had been kissed by the sun. And for a second, I thought, “Wait… is this okay?”
It looked so different from the usual pale yellow puddles I’m used to scooping out of a shell.
But something about it felt… right.
Natural.
Like this was what eggs were supposed to look like all
