My sister and I are at the beach, a late summer vacation on Edisto Island, and we have taken an unnaturally long time to buy eggs. Sparing you the intimate details, neither of us are wildly wealthy enough to turn up our noses at perfectly good food. But the eggs. We both seem to have developed an affinity for farm fresh, free range eggs. The lone chain grocery store on the island has regular eggs, the kind we grew up eating and enjoying. It wouldn't have dawned on our parents to get all dramatic about such a basic breakfast food. Apparently, we've gotten picky.
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