Wild Eggs

By the time you came to the breakfast table in my great grandpa’s kitchen, you were plenty ready to eat. Maybe you spent the past hour working the fields or gathering eggs from the henhouse. You might have visited your neighbor’s home for fresh milk or butter. Everything on your plate would have been made from scratch. And any meal, especially one made by my great grandma, would have included potatoes: home fried, scalloped potatoes, maybe even potato latkes.  You ate surrounded by family and friends. You shared your plans for the long day ahead and had one more cup of coffee before heading to town.  Life for my great grandpa revolved around work and family, making an honest living in a new land. After coming to America from Poland almost 100 years ago, he settled in Denver, Colorado, hoping to make his mark.  Blessed with beautiful mountains, pristine streams, and rich soil, Colorado rewarded Zel and his family. He began farming and selling potatoes and eventually opened the Zell’s Potato Company, selling his crops at the city’s farmer’s market. As his family grew, breakfast continued to hold its importance, serving as a touchstone between his life in the old country and his new life in America.