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Before city people thought it was cool to keep chickens, we had chickens. They were mostly for eggs, but occasionally a young rooster would become dinner. Eggs are a good source of protein, and the chickens were pretty funny to watch too. When I was a kid, I'd go out and feed them, gather up the eggs. We had all kinds of kinds: Ameraucanas; Dominicans and Leghorns with their red, red combs; those ridiculously beautiful jet-black Ortholopes; Rhode Island Reds. There was just always a big variety! They'd be running around the yard, leaving us their beautiful, dark fresh eggs. To this day, I've never tasted anything close to one of our hen's fresh eggs.
As you know by this point, deviled eggs for us are practically another food group. Having a special deviled egg dish to serve them on is a true mark of a Southern woman. For Easter, deviled eggs go to a whole new level. Mom goes all out. She makes little animals out of the eggs and decorates them, and, naturally, she especially likes making bunnies. When I was a kid, it wouldn't have been Easter without my mom's Bunny Eggs - so much so, I now find myself making them for friends, or friends with kids, or friends who really are just big kids.
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