This guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs."—Woody Allen
Everybody is starting an egg farm, everybody is building a chicken coop and everyone is trying to unload eggs. Urban farmers in London flats are keeping chickens, as are New Yorkers. People you would never figure for going out and buying hens are constructing chicken coops. A friend working as a sales rep for an international publishing company goes out to fetch eggs every morning from her backyard coop. The editor of this very publication keeps chickens.
Not only is the Burpee Seed company seeing record sales, so are the nation's chicken hatcheries. Next week in Buckland, the Pioneer Valley Backyard Chicken Association (http://pets.groups.yahoo.com/group/pvbca/) is hosting its second annual coop tour. Having a backyard coop is like Twitter for homeowners, it's that popular. The only difference is that we need eggs. In Montague, a couple who breed, sell and show all types of fowl are seeing a lot of business in the form of egg sales off the back porch and chick sales for people who are starting their own backyard coops. Penny Sears and her partner Billye Davis live at FireFly Farm in Montague.
"Where are you?" implored Sears on the day I was to visit them. "Lost!" I replied on my cellphone. I had taken a wrong turn and wound up at The Bookmill, a used book store and cafe on the Sawmill River. A bantam-weight female around 50 years old, Sears strolled up to my car when I entered the driveway. She was surrounded by a clutch of exotic birds.
"Bookmill pretty captivating, huh?" said Sears, who is joined by her partner Billye, an elegant woman with flowing blonde hair. Behind them is a shiny new log cabin sitting high on the rise. Down the hill are several chicken coops with lots of fowl including hens, roosters, turkeys, two dogs and a cat. Every animal has a name.
Ornamental birds are in a pen in front of the house. There are silkies and other surreal-looking breeds. "This is Violet," says Billye, holding a prize-winning Wyandotte up to the camera. Violet has a page to herself in Storey's Illustrated Guide to Poultry Breeds. Penny and Billye have been breeding and selling chicks for around three years. But demand has them focusing on hatching inside the house, where I saw some cute little chicks marching around in an incubator.
Penny and I got down to business about the whys and wherefores of having chickens in the yard. "First, you won't need a rooster; besides, they're too noisy. Second, buy them as chicks. I only charge $3; a hatchery will make you buy 25 of them. Third, keep everything dry. But I'm getting ahead of myself," she said. "All you need to start your own chicken producing operation is a couple of hens." One can buy a "dual purpose bird" which will lay eggs for a couple of years and then can be eaten, by you. Or there are the "production birds" that just lay eggs.
We walked down to the chicken coop to observe the hen house set-up—a coop with a run attached. The coop is enclosed and has laying bins inside, a roof and a door. The "run," which has a door, is around 9 by 5 feet. "Free-range is good, but you don't want chickens in the house," says Sears. Free-range chickens become prey to raccoons and foxes. Surprisingly, there is no smell. At FireFly, they clean out cages around four times a year and keep them "dry" with lots of shaved wood and leaves to soak up moisture and prevent smells. Finally, feed and plenty of water are required for the keeping of hens.
Not a bad life at FireFly: sell cartons of eggs off the porch, breed chicks and show the exotics. Penny and Billye are also getting ready to show their birds at the Poultry Congress, which will be at the Big E next year. "The National Bantam Show is free," says Penny. We agree that there is not much these days in the entertainment world that is free. Twitter, of course, is free, but given the choice, Twit or National Bantam Show— really, no contest there.
Restaurant Buzz: The Lady Killigrew Cafe, Montague Bookmill?
How awesome is a place where you can sit at a little table next to a window next to a babbling brook and read any book that you can get your hands on while enjoying a beverage and local food? The Lady Killigrew Cafe is charmingly situated in "the place that you can't find to read the books that you don't need," as the Bookmill bills itself on bumper stickers. This canteen has not only wifi but hard cider and beer.
Food at Lady Killigrew is prosiac as well as practical. The day I was there, a grilled sandwich of brie, apricot jam and marinated apples was on the menu as well as a summer sausage, cheddar and whole grain mustard combination. From the "Food That Is Intrinsically Delicious" menu I tried a peanut-ginger udon noodle dish. With its perfect broad noodles (not too slimy), a well-balanced peanut sauce (not too Skippy-like) and pyramid of scallions, carrot shavings and chopped nuts, it was unnecessarily massive and delicious.
The cafe is laid back, crowded on the day I was there, and beautiful with the water glinting through the windows and people perched over their books and each other. Huge locavore points for Lady Killigrew's liberal use of local ingredients as evidenced on a chalk board: eggs from Diemand Farm of Wendell, pickles and kimchee from Turners Falls, Katalyst Kombucha from Greenfield and West County Cider from Colrain. The beer is the High and Mighty brand from Holyoke and Henion Bakery in Amherst provides bread.
If you've got some time to kill, this is the place to do it.
