I was 60 years old when I found myself standing in front of the egg aisle, squinting like I was picking out a new car instead of breakfast. There are perfectly clean white eggs in a plastic carton on the left. The brown eggs on the right looked more like they came from nature, which made them seem healthier.
For years, I picked the brown ones because I thought they were better. I would say more natural, as if I knew what I was talking about. That day, a young cashier laughed softly when I hesitated and said something that made me feel both silly and strangely better. I hesitated and said something that made me feel silly and strangely better.
I can’t stop seeing the detail I had always missed since then. The shell’s colour hides a small secret. I can’t stop seeing the small secret since then.
So, what is the real difference between a brown egg and a white egg?
It seems clear at first glance what the difference is: one looks like it should be in an ad, and the other looks like it should be in a farmhouse basket. Brown eggs feel more real and warmer. White eggs look like they came from a factory, almost like they are clean. It seems clear at first glance what the difference is, and one looks like it should be in an ad.
We don’t even realise it, but we make up stories about these colours. Brown has to be natural, and white has to be cheap. Brown must come from hens that are happy, and white must come from big, dark barns. We don’t read the labels; we trust what we see. That’s how marketing works. We make up stories about these colours and trust what we see without question.
But behind this first impression is something much less important than most of us think. Behind this much less important idea is the truth.
I asked a small farmer at the market a few days after I had my supermarket revelation. He smiled, took a white egg and a brown egg from the same crate, and put them in my hand. He said, “Same feed, same field, same life.” “Just different hens.” He took a white egg and a brown egg from the same crate and put them in my hand.
Then he pointed to a hen that was pecking near the fence. She had light feathers and white lobes on the sides of her head. She laid white eggs. Her neighbour, who had darker feathers and reddish lobes and was more reddish, would lay brown eggs. Same barn, same dust, same sun. Different shell. She had light feathers and white lobes on the sides of her head and same barn, same dust, same sun.
Nothing strange. Not a secret superfood. Just a basket of genetics. It was just a basket of genetics and nothing more.
The truth is that the breed of the hen mostly affects the colour of the shell. Hens with white feathers and light earlobes usually lay white eggs. Hens with red or brown feathers and darker lobes are more likely to lay brown eggs. The breed of the hen mostly affects the colour of the shell and nothing else.
The colour that gives the shell its colour is added at the very end of the egg’s formation. It doesn’t leak through the shell. It doesn’t make the yolk stronger. It doesn’t add vitamins. If the hens ate the same food and lived in the same conditions, white and brown eggs are almost the same nutritionally when you crack them open. The very end of the egg’s formation is where the colour is added and almost the same nutritionally when you crack them open.
We pay for a feeling, imagine a story, and buy a colour. We pay for a feeling and buy a colour without thinking.
How to really pick your eggs (without falling for the colour trick)
When we stop looking for the “right” colour, we can see the small codes and words on the box more clearly. That’s where the real difference is. We can see the small codes and words on the box and the real difference is there.
The first number on the egg stamp tells you how long the hen has been alive. 0 for organic, 1 for free-range outdoors, 2 for barn-raised, and 3 for caged. After that, there are letters and numbers for the country and the farm. This code doesn’t look as good in pictures as a brown shell, but it tells you a lot more about what you’re buying. The first number on the egg stamp tells you and a lot more about what you’re buying.
Colour is tempting. That little stamp tells the story. That little stamp tells the story behind the shell.
We all know what it’s like to be in a tight spot and grab the cheapest tray of eggs without thinking too much. No judgement, just life. A few cents can sometimes mean more than any principle. We all know what it’s like to be in a tight spot and grab the cheapest tray of eggs.
But once you learn how to read those labels, things change. You could switch it up: some weeks you could get organic or free-range eggs, and other weeks you could get barn-raised eggs from a local farm. You might also see that some “fancy-looking” brown eggs come from hens that live inside, while some plain white eggs come from farms that care about animal welfare. Once you learn how to read those labels, things change over time and farms that care about animal welfare stand out.
You can’t unsee the difference between the picture and the reality once you see it.
The farmer said, “People think brown eggs are better for you.” He wiped his hands on his trousers. “I could paint the shells blue, but the eggs inside would still be the same.” The hen’s life, not her makeup, changes the egg. The eggs inside would still be the same and hen’s life, not her makeup, changes the egg.
The first number on the stamp tells you if the hens can go outside (0 and 1) or stay inside (2 and 3). Look at the words on the box. The words “organic,” “free-range,” “barn,” and “cage” say more than the colour of the shell ever could. Pay attention to the yolk, not the shell. The colour of the yolk, whether it is yellow or orange, often has more to do with what the hen eats than with the colour of the egg itself. Believe what you see and hear at home. The smell, the texture when cooked, and how the white stays together in the pan are all real clues. Sometimes, price is important. To be honest, no one really does this every day. Even small, infrequent choices add up over time. The first number on the stamp tells you and pay attention to the yolk, not the shell and small, infrequent choices add up over time.
What I wish someone had told me about eggs 40 years ago
I felt a little like someone who finds out at 60 that Santa Claus never really existed when I finally learned the difference between white and brown eggs. A little disappointed and strangely free at the same time. I learned that a colour, a rustic picture on a box, or a word like “farmhouse” can change what we choose for years. I felt a little disappointed and strangely free at the same time and change what we choose for years.
It also changed the way I looked at other aisles. The bread that looks darker but isn’t really whole grain. The “light” products that aren’t really lighter. The “traditional” labels that are put on ultra-processed foods. After you see this happen with something as simple as an egg, you start to notice it happening all over the place. It changed the way I looked at other aisles and notice it happening all over the place.
Main pointDetail: What the reader gets out of it
The colour of the shell is determined by genetics.The colour of the hen’s shell depends on the breed and the pigments in the shell.Stops wasting time or money looking for a “healthier” colour. The colour of the shell is determined by genetics and wasting time or money looking for a healthier colour stops here.
Label beats looksThe code 0–3 and the words “organic,” “free-range,” “barn,” and “cage” tell the whole story. This helps you pick eggs that fit your budget and values. The code 0–3 and the words organic and tell the whole story for your budget and values.
Inside is what matters most. The colour of the shell doesn’t change the taste or nutrition; the feed, living conditions, and freshness do.Lets you focus on what really makes your food better. Inside is what matters most and living conditions and freshness do the real work.
