A day in the life of a hen
Did you know that we eat 31 million eggs in Britain every day? That’s a staggering 11 billion a year. Poached, fried, scrambled or served up with soldiers, they fuel the nation. Which means that chicken farming is a very big industry, and one that has come under close scrutiny in recent years. Hugh Fearnley- Whittingstall’s 2008 documentary series, Hugh’s Chicken Run, for example, raised public awareness of living standards for hens, and the demand for free-range eggs has never been higher.
‘The RSPCA believes that consumers are increasingly concerned about the issue of welfare standards of foodproducing animals,’ says Calie Rydings, a farm-animal spokesperson for the organisation. ‘The diff erence between the cost of a battery egg and a higher welfare egg, or indeed a freerange egg, is in most cases a matter of pennies.’
And so I decided to fi nd out more, which is how I come to be standing in a disposable boiler suit, in a henhouse, in the Hertfordshire countryside. (Just another Friday, then.)
Farmer Jean-Paul (JP) Michalski meets me as I arrive at his home, Bulbourne Farm. The farm has been around since the 1950s and was originally owned by Farmers Weekly. Now it’s under the jurisdiction of Noble Foods, and is home to around 14,000 hens. As we make our way up the driveway, the fi rst thing we see is the shiny-feathered Lohmann Browns ambling over the grass. ‘They’re amazing creatures to work with,’ says JP.
While this is a supposedly midsize farm, there really is an awful lot of land. JP explains that regulations mean you can have 2,000 birds per hectare, but Bulbourne feels much more expansive. I, of course, am here as an expected guest, so it’s impossible to know exactly what goes on behind the scenes, but the hens appear content and well kept.
They certainly lay a lot of eggs. There are three ‘full-time lads’ who help JP look after the hens, and a huge part of their job involves egg collection. Not every hen will lay every day, but there are still approximately 13,800 eggs to be gathered daily. Far from my romantic notion of wicker baskets, the lads zip around from hen house to henhouse on quad bikes to ensure timely collection.
Left: Hens like to take a stroll. Right: The hens enjoy time in play parks
The British market demands perfect eggs, so any that are cracked, rough-shelled or even a little bit dirty do not make the cut (or the egg box, rather). But the imperfect ones are put to use, often becoming powdered eggs. In fact, out of the 13,800 collected daily, only four or fi ve are entirely unsalvageable. ‘Every egg is valuable to us,’ says JP, ‘that’s how we make our money.’
On a very simple level, a welllooked- after hen produces eggs of a higher quality. That is the philosophy behind the brand Happy Eggs, which is the main recipient of Bulborne Farm’s produce.
‘I have managed chicken farms for 27 years and I love it,’ says JP. ‘It’s hard work, mind. We let the birds out at the crack of dawn and they don’t get put away again until it gets dark. In the summer months we can be out here until 11.30 at night shutting all the chickens away.’
But how can you tell if a hen is happy? ‘This is a content noise,’ he explains as we enter one of the henhouses, ‘and they are very calm.’ They are very inquisitive too, and crowd round, pecking at our wellies.
The henhouse itself is entirely selfsuffi cient. It is powered by wind turbines and solar panels and is naturally ventilated. There is a straw-covered area complete with dust baths for the hens to preen themselves, a feeding conveyor belt and the all-important nest boxes. Hens arrive at the farm at 16 weeks old, when they are ‘teenage’ chickens and start laying at 20 weeks. Like any young adult, this involves a bit of training on the job. ‘We have to teach them to use the nest boxes at the beginning because they’ll just start laying eggs all over the place. After a while they get used to going in there and they rather like it. They’re creatures of habit – once they’ve chosen a laying spot, they stick to it.’
JP goes on to explain a chicken’s working day, which sounds rather enviable. ‘We open the pop-holes and the shed empties, they have their morning stroll and then they come back in, feed, drink, lay their eggs and then chill out in the afternoon. They start laying at 7am and are usually finished by lunchtime.’
The afternoon is devoted to mothers’ meetings, upholding the pecking order and play. There is a large, grassy outdoor space for the chickens, with wooden constructions for the hens to jump, flit and frolic on.
Left: Fiona disinfects her wellies before entering the henhouse. Right: Fiona and JP inspect a newly laid egg
Sometimes, however, they have to be encouraged to go outside. ‘They don’t particularly like it when it’s sunny, would you believe it. We think this is because they can’t see in the bright sun, so they become particularly wary of predators such as buzzards and foxes.’ For this reason, JP and his team have planted lots of trees so that they also have areas of cover.
‘It’s important to be in tune with them, because you’re not so much looking after individual animals as looking after a flock,’ he says. ‘And they’re all different. The next flock will go out at different times, behave differently and be scared of different things. You do one thing one time and the chickens will love it, but next time they may not. I love my days on the farm.’
Heading back to the house, I have one more question. How does JP enjoy his eggs?
‘Poached,’ he grins. ‘I have poached eggs every day.’
‘I use the same saucepan every time: it’s the one my mum gave me when I moved out so I’ve had it for years. I fill it with water, bring it to the boil and drop in a bit of vinegar. I stir the water until it creates a little whirlpool, and then crack in the freshest egg I can find. Then I put the lid on, turn off the heat and let it sit there for three or four minutes. They’re delicious, especially served with dry-cured bacon!’
‘The RSPCA believes that consumers are increasingly concerned about the issue of welfare standards of foodproducing animals,’ says Calie Rydings, a farm-animal spokesperson for the organisation. ‘The diff erence between the cost of a battery egg and a higher welfare egg, or indeed a freerange egg, is in most cases a matter of pennies.’
And so I decided to fi nd out more, which is how I come to be standing in a disposable boiler suit, in a henhouse, in the Hertfordshire countryside. (Just another Friday, then.)
Farmer Jean-Paul (JP) Michalski meets me as I arrive at his home, Bulbourne Farm. The farm has been around since the 1950s and was originally owned by Farmers Weekly. Now it’s under the jurisdiction of Noble Foods, and is home to around 14,000 hens. As we make our way up the driveway, the fi rst thing we see is the shiny-feathered Lohmann Browns ambling over the grass. ‘They’re amazing creatures to work with,’ says JP.
While this is a supposedly midsize farm, there really is an awful lot of land. JP explains that regulations mean you can have 2,000 birds per hectare, but Bulbourne feels much more expansive. I, of course, am here as an expected guest, so it’s impossible to know exactly what goes on behind the scenes, but the hens appear content and well kept.
They certainly lay a lot of eggs. There are three ‘full-time lads’ who help JP look after the hens, and a huge part of their job involves egg collection. Not every hen will lay every day, but there are still approximately 13,800 eggs to be gathered daily. Far from my romantic notion of wicker baskets, the lads zip around from hen house to henhouse on quad bikes to ensure timely collection.
Left: Hens like to take a stroll. Right: The hens enjoy time in play parksThe British market demands perfect eggs, so any that are cracked, rough-shelled or even a little bit dirty do not make the cut (or the egg box, rather). But the imperfect ones are put to use, often becoming powdered eggs. In fact, out of the 13,800 collected daily, only four or fi ve are entirely unsalvageable. ‘Every egg is valuable to us,’ says JP, ‘that’s how we make our money.’
On a very simple level, a welllooked- after hen produces eggs of a higher quality. That is the philosophy behind the brand Happy Eggs, which is the main recipient of Bulborne Farm’s produce.
‘I have managed chicken farms for 27 years and I love it,’ says JP. ‘It’s hard work, mind. We let the birds out at the crack of dawn and they don’t get put away again until it gets dark. In the summer months we can be out here until 11.30 at night shutting all the chickens away.’
But how can you tell if a hen is happy? ‘This is a content noise,’ he explains as we enter one of the henhouses, ‘and they are very calm.’ They are very inquisitive too, and crowd round, pecking at our wellies.
The henhouse itself is entirely selfsuffi cient. It is powered by wind turbines and solar panels and is naturally ventilated. There is a straw-covered area complete with dust baths for the hens to preen themselves, a feeding conveyor belt and the all-important nest boxes. Hens arrive at the farm at 16 weeks old, when they are ‘teenage’ chickens and start laying at 20 weeks. Like any young adult, this involves a bit of training on the job. ‘We have to teach them to use the nest boxes at the beginning because they’ll just start laying eggs all over the place. After a while they get used to going in there and they rather like it. They’re creatures of habit – once they’ve chosen a laying spot, they stick to it.’
JP goes on to explain a chicken’s working day, which sounds rather enviable. ‘We open the pop-holes and the shed empties, they have their morning stroll and then they come back in, feed, drink, lay their eggs and then chill out in the afternoon. They start laying at 7am and are usually finished by lunchtime.’
The afternoon is devoted to mothers’ meetings, upholding the pecking order and play. There is a large, grassy outdoor space for the chickens, with wooden constructions for the hens to jump, flit and frolic on.
Left: Fiona disinfects her wellies before entering the henhouse. Right: Fiona and JP inspect a newly laid egg Sometimes, however, they have to be encouraged to go outside. ‘They don’t particularly like it when it’s sunny, would you believe it. We think this is because they can’t see in the bright sun, so they become particularly wary of predators such as buzzards and foxes.’ For this reason, JP and his team have planted lots of trees so that they also have areas of cover.
‘It’s important to be in tune with them, because you’re not so much looking after individual animals as looking after a flock,’ he says. ‘And they’re all different. The next flock will go out at different times, behave differently and be scared of different things. You do one thing one time and the chickens will love it, but next time they may not. I love my days on the farm.’
Heading back to the house, I have one more question. How does JP enjoy his eggs?
‘Poached,’ he grins. ‘I have poached eggs every day.’
How to poach the perfect egg
Farmer JP’s method has been fine-tuned over the decades…‘I use the same saucepan every time: it’s the one my mum gave me when I moved out so I’ve had it for years. I fill it with water, bring it to the boil and drop in a bit of vinegar. I stir the water until it creates a little whirlpool, and then crack in the freshest egg I can find. Then I put the lid on, turn off the heat and let it sit there for three or four minutes. They’re delicious, especially served with dry-cured bacon!’