There’s no doubting that different eggs have different qualities: duck eggs, for instance, boast an intense flavour and are suited to desserts. Goose eggs are flavourful and good to bake with. Quail’s eggs are dinky and ideal for canapés – as well as having a pretty, speckled patterning. That’s all very well, but do these subtle differences really justify the inflated prices? Do the inflated prices themselves act as an aphrodisiac of taste – a placebo, even? One wouldn’t go as far as making the analogy of the Emperor’s New Clothes, but one senses an element of it.

The 1950s ‘palaver over the plover egg’ is a case in point. From Victorian times to the Second World War, plovers’ eggs were très à la mode. So fashionable, in fact, that supply could not keep up with demand. Their nests were raided so intensively that by the 50s the bird was considered an endangered species. By consequence, the collecting of plover’s eggs was made illegal by government legislation.

The result? Like a phoenix from the flames, rose the black-headed gull and its eggs were marketed to fill the plover egg-shaped niche left behind.

Humpty numpties fall ‘fowl’ of the law

Although pillaging the nests of gulls is legitimate with a license, it can still land dealers in hot water with certain animal rights activists. It’s not only the small time indies who might face the risk of a vandalized van, etc, but big stores too. One of Picadilly’s most famous shops, for instance, no longer sells gulls’ egg due to incessant pressure from certain factions. Although there is absolutely no evidence that their suppliers are breaking any laws whatsoever, they fear for bad PR.

The search for exotic eggs does take some people to (illegal) extremes, however – but not for the purposes of sampling rare food. It’s more in the name of taxidermy, or more specifically oologogy – the peculiarly British impulse to categorize and collect the eggs of wild birds. A residue perhaps of the colonial era, when it was a respectable branch of ornithology. But whatever the origins of this odd practice, last year saw 54 collecting incidents reported to the RSPB and 12 reports of illegal sales. One man – apparently a well-to-do landowner – was imprisoned for four months for buying wild eggs. Rumours abounded that he had built up a collection of 8,000! One can only imagine the look on his cellmates’ faces when he divulged the reason for his incarceration.

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Paying a lot of money for eggs isn’t a new thing, however. Far from it. For centuries the world’s moneyed elite have spent big money on them. And we’re not talking about the shiny ones made by Carl Fabergé. In a word – CAVIAR. The very word conjures up a kind of bourgeois fantasy: a far cry from the pickled egg at the chip shop. Admittedly, fish eggs are harder to farm, but when some of London’s most fashionable food halls are charging in the region of £195 for a 50g tin, one can be forgiven for being somewhat sceptical. Little wonder then, the delicacy is also referred to as ‘Black Gold’. They also go exceptionally well with Lurpak!

Old timer

How do you like your egg? Three minutes and runny, or four and firm? Well, how does 1000 years sound?!

In a world obsessed with best-before dates, it seems almost perverse to indulge in foods that have been around a long time. Sure, the French like their cheese mature – much like their wine – and this side of the channel, we like our pickles, well, nice and pickled. But that’s nothing compared to a certain Chinese delicacy. ‘Thousand-year eggs’ are chicken or quail eggs preserved in a mixture of rice, straw, ash, clay, salt and lime, until the egg white has turned brown and the yolk dark green. Incredible as it sounds, they’re quite commonly eaten in China. Apparently, the taste and texture resembles cheese. Not that the present writer is brave enough to try one!

Eggs is eggs

As today’s gourmand foods veer towards the ever more adventurous, exotic and expensive, we might cast a nostalgic eye over the egg marketing of yesteryear. And no egg campaign is more iconic than the classic ‘Go to work on an egg’ series of the 1950s. Fronted by comedian Tony Hancock, the adverts captured the uncomplicated attitude of working class Britain 1950s: eggs were essentially a highly nutritious form of food and a solid start to the day.

Ostensibly, the British Egg Marketing Board’s slogan was a straightforward piece of advice that appeared to do a generation of Britons no harm at all. However, when the Board recently tried to re-run the cherished campaign, it was a case of treading on egg shells with the UK’s advertising watchdogs. Eventually, the 'Go to Work on an Egg' message was deemed too dangerous for modern-day audiences on the grounds that it fails to promote a varied and balanced diet!

…Egg-straordinary!