Two things come to mind when I hear the phrase ‘goose egg’: the harpsichord line from Joanna Newsom’s song ‘Goose Eggs’ and whether Spongebob would say ‘goose eggs’ as a swear word if the TV show was based on a farm. Together they’re quite satisfying to say when something’s not quite gone your way.
Back on topic – goose eggs are one of three eggs on the 1001 food list that are seasonal. The window is a few months long around about the time spring turns into summer, which about the same time as pheasant eggs (also on the list) and a lot more forgiving than gull eggs (whose window is about 1-2 weeks long).
Luckily the eating of goose eggs has become mainstream enough that you can find them at some of the more upscale supermarkets – such as the one I got from Waitrose. However, it is worth noting that a goose only lays ~40 eggs a year so the supply is limited (ergo the price of about £7 per egg).
I had one shot at cooking this egg, so I went for the classic method of soft-boiling it with soldiers and celery salt.
Of course I hadn’t thought about an egg cup for this massive egg. The only suitable vessel that I had was a measuring cup (1/3 cup to be precise) in my Joseph Joseph nesting bowls. Did the trick beautifully, although that didn’t stop me from repeatedly burning myself as I cut the top off.
Thanks to a mix of nerves and a LOT of conflicting advice on how to soft-boil a goose egg this came out more solid than I had first hoped. I still had some yolk to dip the soldiers in, but I was probably only one minute away from having a hard-boiled goose egg.
The first thing I noticed when taking the top off was just how much smoother the shell had become, then I took a look in my pan. It appears that as the egg was boiled, the rougher outer part of the shell had come away and left a chalky residue in the pan. Not too hard to wash off, but just a bit weird.
Another thing of note is the ratio of yolk to white in the goose egg when compared to the chicken egg. People talk online about how much richer a sauce or a cake is when using goose eggs – something that can be understood when you see just how much yolk is inside, and just how yellow the yolk is!
Tastewise, the yolk doesn’t taste too different to a good hens egg like the Burford Brown. When you eat both the yolk and the white at the same time, however, you can taste the difference. The white has a stronger taste and the whole thing feels just that bit more luxurious.
If it wasn’t for the price I would be interested to see what a goose egg omelette would taste like. Might give this a go once I successfully buy a gull egg within that ridiculously tiny window (that I missed this year because I was in Tallinn). A goose egg omelette feels like an appropriate way to celebrate.