Like usual, Mom was outside, dressed in her well-loved shorts and bleached baseball cap, dirt rimming her fingernails and staining her knees. She was in a fierce battle with the crabgrass and wild spring onions that threatened to choke her irises and rose of sharon. When she called out, I ran to the front of the house, the beach-house-now-full-time-house on a quiet street in downtown Chincoteague Island. Beneath a bush by the front stoop, she had found an abandoned nest of near a dozen duck eggs.

Mallard ducks are as common on Chincoteague as seagulls, owning the streets like royalty. Cars are fully expected to stop in the middle of the road for duck crossings, which are frequent, especially this time of year during mating season. We weren’t sure why a mama mallard would abandon her eggs, but one egg was cracked – maybe a predator got to it then gave up? But this predator was not giving up so quickly. I grabbed a bowl and filled it up, eight eggs in all.

To test if they were rotten or good to eat, I submerged them in water. None floated, good to go. I packed them up and brought them back home to DC on Sunday night.

Upon returning home and sharing my news with my boyfriend, O, he asked me the question I hadn’t thought to ask. How do you know there aren’t baby chicks inside?

At first, I laughed at his question. Oh, O. You don’t know anything, silly man. And then, in shock, I realized I didn’t know the answer either. Because they didn’t float?

After some research, I found out that you could hold an egg to a bright light, a process called candling, to determine whether an egg had been fertilized yet or not and if an embryo was growing inside. If the egg showed veins or redness, it was not okay to eat. However, if it appeared clear, it was safe. But are fertilized eggs okay to eat? Or can you only eat unfertilized eggs? What makes an egg rotten, anyway? How do other people gather wild eggs and know they’re safe?

I rapidly recognized how ignorant I was about avian reproduction and the origins of the eggs we consume daily.

After my candling experiment, all of my eggs appeared safe and chick-free, so I set out to make a decadent-sounding duck egg pasta. I also had a few duck eggs in my fridge that I’d previously acquired from the farmer’s market as back-up. Since duck eggs have thicker shells than chicken eggs, they also stay fresher longer – another plus, I thought, when cooking with wild eggs.

I cracked open the first egg. The yolk was large and orange, chock-full of vitamins and nutrients. The egg’s white seemed a little thin, but otherwise okay.

I cracked open the second egg, and the inside stuck to the shell. Out came a gelatinous, pink goo. Quietly, reservedly, I freaked out and subsequently threw the rest of the wild duck eggs in the trash. I then allowed myself a proper, very vocal expression of disgust, took a deep breath, and pulled the farmer’s market duck eggs out from the fridge.

Then I made this pasta. I think I’ll keep the egg production to the pros for now.

If you’ve only ever eaten chicken eggs, I highly encourage you to seek out duck eggs and give them a chance. Duck eggs have twice the nutritional value of a chicken egg, are rich in Omega-3s, and are actually alkaline-producing, a great health benefit for a variety of ailments. (Chicken eggs, in contrast, are acidic.) The albumen in the eggs also makes baked goods especially fluffy, so I’m eager to substitute them for chicken eggs in my next cake.

I’ve made pasta a few times before, but never anything quite like this. The resulting pasta is smooth and silky with a subtle flavor of egg. It was especially delicious with pesto, one I brought home from the food swap with sweet peas and mint. For garnish, I scattered on some parmesan shavings. Enjoy with a glass of tart white wine and ta-da! Quite possibly the best spring supper ever.

duck egg pasta

1 1/2 cups white flour (or 00 flour, or farina di grano tenero, if you can find it)
2 duck eggs
semolina flour, for dusting

Pour the flour on the counter. Make a well in the center and crack two eggs into it.

Use a fork to beat the eggs. Slowly use the fork to incorporate the flour bit by bit into the eggs.

Make a spiral with the egg and flour and whisper your magic into it.

When you can no longer use the fork to blend the dough because it’s too thick, flour your hands and start bringing the dough together with your hands.

Bring the dough into a ball and knead it for 8-10 minutes until it’s silky and smooth to the touch.

Pat the dough into a 1-inch disk and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Rest at room temperature or the fridge for 1 hour.

Divide the dough into 4 pieces. Roll each piece out separately. Roll each ball as thin as possible (but not too thin), keeping the reserved dough covered with a towel to keep it fresh.

Dust the sheets lightly with semolina flour to keep the pasta from sticking to itself. With a sharp knife, cut the pasta sheets into noodles. Keep in mind that the pasta will expand slightly when cooked, so thinner is better. Store cut noodles beneath a towel.

If not using the pasta right away, swirl the pasta into individually-portioned “nests.” Freeze the nests in a freezer-safe ziploc bag for up to two months.

Cook pasta in boiling, salted water for 3-5 minutes until al dente. Drain and toss with pesto and freshly shaved parmesan.