NOT SUCH GOOD EGGS

Simon Courtauld investigates the

great free-range racket, and argues that the British consumer is being short-changed

TWENTY THOUSAND hens jostle for space on wire-netting, in a windowless building with subdued strip-lighting. They are fed a concentrated mixture on a con- veyor-belt and, because they are forced to live so close together, they have been de- beaked. A description of conditions, one might think, in a typical battery unit for commercial egg production. But one would be wrong: the eggs that come out of this place are called free-range.

`They're no more free-range than what I am,' said the housewife at my elbow, as I took a box of eggs from one of the shelves at the supermarket; 'I think it's a bloody disgrace.' As I began to learn more about modem commercial egg production, I found myself agreeing with the shopping lady's graphically expressed opinion. For misdescription and misrepresentation in the egg industry persist on a scale that, at least to someone as naive as I must be, is scarcely believable. Let us deal first with these 'free-range' units. Countless people may fondly imag- me that free-range means what it says freedom for hens to roam outdoors and on grass. EC regulations stipulate that the birds should have access to grass (at the rate of 1,000 per hectare), but that access need be no more than a single 'pophole' - large enough for one bird to go out or come in. There is no requirement to pro- vide individual nests or perches in the hen- houses. Since some free-range buildings may house tens of thousands of hens, con- fined in an area allowing 25 birds per square metre (which means each bird Occupying a space rather smaller than this page), one may legitimately assume that very little free-ranging gets done. Ten per cent may get out during the course of a day; most will never see daylight at all.

I had heard of a farm where an electric `The was placed just outside the pophole. The last thing a free-range commercial farmer wants is for his hens to go outside,' was how one small egg producer put it to me. 'He would much rather keep them indoors, where they cannot be affected by bad weather and will not be prey to foxes and rats or to disease from wild birds.' A useful loophole in the regulations — there is nothing to say that the free-range area has to be adjacent to the hen-house — can ensure that the hens never venture outside at all.

My own free-range experience is rather different. For the past 20 years I have kept chickens — not commercially, but they have usually provided enough eggs for a small household and a surplus in summer to give to friends. We have had several hybrids, a few Brown Leghorns and Pekin bantams, and on occasion rather too many cockerels. They have had plenty of grass to peck at all day long, and a diet which in an average week would include corn, leaves from the vegetable garden, and potato peelings, bread crusts, fish skins, rice and other kitchen scraps boiled up and mixed with a layers' mash. A ham bone was a spe- cial treat, about twice a year.

Then we moved house during the sum- mer, the poultry had to go, and we were obliged to start buying eggs. It has not been a pleasant experience. I have occasionally eaten commercially produced eggs in restaurants, but until three months ago it was a very long time since I had eaten someone else's boiled or poached eggs (except in houses also with small flocks of hens running free and enjoying a varied diet). Having been spoilt for years by my own 'home-grown' eggs, produced by free- ranging birds, I have to say that it is almost impossible to find a decent egg in the shops.

Free-range eggs, which account for a lit- tle over 10 per cent of the market, are pre- sumably bought for two reasons: because they make the purchaser feel more virtuous, and because they are thought to come from hens which enjoy an open-air, stress-free existence, and therefore will taste better than battery-laid eggs. Though free-range hens, unlike battery hens, are not caged in their huge accommodation units, and at least some may be able to perch, the major- ity unquestionably live in conditions which very few egg-buying customers would describe as consistent with their under- standing of the term 'free-range'.

As for taste, a recent consumer television programme asked 100 people to sample soft-boiled eggs from battery and free-range units; 81 of them were unable to tell the dif- ference. Of the 19 who did correctly identi- fy a free-range egg, only ten preferred it to the battery egg. Yet some supermarkets charge twice as much (more than £2 per dozen) for free-range eggs; demand for them shows no sign of slackening, so the shops can keep their prices, and their profit margins, high. But can the demand always be met? When one supermarket increased its order for free-range eggs, the regular supplier, fearing that he might not have enough eggs and lose the order, resolved his difficulty by buying in the required num- ber from a battery-egg unit nearby.

I must stop talking about battery eggs, because the term is forbidden by Brussels regulations. If not 'free-range eggs' or `barn eggs' (where the hens live in condi- tions similar to free-range, but without the pophole), they must be called 'eggs', often prefixed by the battery producers with the questionable description 'farm-fresh'. The eggs may come from a highly mechanised unit housing 60,000 birds which spend the whole of their laying lives caged and with- out any natural light, yet the boxes in which they are sold often carry pictures of the country idyll — a small farmhouse sur- rounded by rolling fields, trees and hedgerows, against a background of a ris- ing sun. Can this really conform to the Trade Descriptions Act? (To its credit, Marks & Spencer has recently removed such illustrations from its egg-boxes, including those selling free-range eggs. But this is exceptional.) The descriptive terms, and the packag- ing, may be open to misinterpretation, to put it politely, but the British Egg Industry Council (BEIC) seems quite happy with them. 'We feel that the labelling is not designed to confuse consumers; and our research shows that the majority are satis- fied with current information on egg- boxes,' a spokesman said.

Freshness is what matters to shoppers, I was told; and we have the assurance of the past chairman of the BEIC, Peter Humphrey, speaking on the Watchdog pro- gramme, that 'all our eggs are so terribly fresh these days'. Up to a point, Mr Humphrey; it rather depends what you mean by 'terribly fresh'.

According to EC regulations, eggs do not have to be collected from farms more than once a week. They will then go to a packing station, where they will also be graded, and thereafter be delivered, per- haps via a depot, to the shops. Up to two weeks may have elapsed between the lay- ing date and the date when the eggs are put on sale — at which time a 'best before' date must be stamped on the egg-boxes, which may be a further three weeks ahead. Some retailers now also declare a 'packing' date, which may be brought forward to the date when the eggs reach the shops, for instance if eggs leave the packers on a Fri- day and are to be offered for sale on the Monday morning. Sainsbury's allow three weeks between the packing and 'best before' dates, Marks & Spencer two. (M & S also boast that their eggs are 'individual- ly date-coded for added freshness'. Added information, maybe; but it has nothing to do with freshness.) Tesco's 'farm-fresh eggs' are said to be delivered 'from farm to store in 36 hours', though their 'farm eggs' are of unspecified freshness.

Eggs will, of course, remain edible for a few months, if stored at the right tempera- ture. At least one producer is rumoured to hold back his eggs for several weeks in the autumn in order to get a better price near- er to Christmas. However, having never eaten my own eggs when they were more than a week old, I do know how much bet- ter a genuinely fresh egg can be (not only in taste: the white of a poached or fried three-week-old egg is liable to run all over the pan). The BEIC, which represents all those producers who put a lion mark on their egg-boxes to show they meet certain hygiene standards, recommends that eggs should be eaten within three weeks of the date of lay — rather sooner than most `best before' dates recommended in shops.

But the date of lay, which for most shoppers is surely more important than any other, remains a secret. Brussels regu- lations allow this date to be given, but only if it is stamped on each egg as well as on the box. No one seems anxious to adopt this practice — a date-stamping machine suitable for the purpose costs £20,000 and the BEIC continues to favour a 'best before' date, because shoppers are famil- iar with it from other food purchases and to add the date of lay 'would only confuse them'. I am surely not alone in wanting to know the date on which an egg was laid, which is, after all, the only way of being sure how fresh it is.

Martin Pitt, who keeps 20,000 hens near Marlborough, Wiltshire, appreciates the importance of telling his customers when his eggs were laid. While not date-stamping each egg, he states on the egg-box wrapper that the eggs were laid during a specified period of three days — and they are deliv- ered to shops within 24 hours of being laid, Forgive me, had I known your appalling driving was a substitute for lack of stature, I would not have mentioned it.' having been packed and graded at his farm. The hens are in flocks of 1,800 to a house, living at a density of only eight per square metre, and there are lots of large popholes, enabling all the hens, according to Mr Pitt, to go outside at least twice a day. Their feed consists of a meal high in polyunsaturates and minerals — containing maize, grass, seaweed and oyster-shell. The eggs have the approval of the Vegetarian Society, and the hens are regularly tested for salmonella (this is no longer a legal requirement). Unlike almost all other com- mercially produced eggs, no betacarotene or other artificial yolk colouring agent is added.

Compare a Pitt egg with a supermarket free-range egg, and the difference is at once apparent. When soft-boiled the Pitt egg white is milkier, and when poached the yolk is higher-domed — both significant pointers to freshness. Most noticeable, however, is the disparity between the yolks: Pitt's is a rich golden colour, with a creamy consistency, while the other is an unnatu- rally bright orange, with a slightly glutinous quality. In the days before artificial colour- ing, this egg yolk would probably have been an etiolated yellow. Now the supermarket will order its preferred shade of yolk from a colour chart.

The highest compliment I can pay to the Pitt eggs is to say that they remind me of my own. (During fairly extensive tasting research, the only other eggs which I consid- er in the same league were those from Speckledy Hens, 'descended from original pure breeds', which are sold by Tesco, at £1.75 a dozen. The hens lay fewer eggs, and live in less cramped conditions, than most; hence their better flavour.) Not surprisinglY' Mr Pitt's eggs are more expensive, and are mainly sold in London butchers' and deli- catessens at around £2 a dozen. He criticises supermarkets for the price-squeezing which they apply to egg suppliers, sometimes forc- ing them to economise on feed and welfare standards — and even to bend the rules.

Only customer demand will bring changes within the egg industry and pres- sure to amend the regulations. It is patently absurd that the permitted conditions for keeping battery and free-range hens should be so similar. The distribution chain should be shortened and the freshness of an egg unequivocally stated. It would also be nice to know where, at least in which country, an egg has been laid. Around 10 million eggs a week are imported from other EC countries, yet the country of origin is never declared on any egg-box. A numbered code will tell those in the know whether the eggs have been i packed in Britain (if the first digit is 9, it means they have), but that is all. WhY should we have to risk eating a month-old egg laid in Greece? What is needed is a British Egg Con- sumers' Council or, if an acronymic body is likely to have more appeal, Cafe, a Cam- paign for Fresh Eggs.