Meanwhile, in Florida...
The high price of chicken eggs + an invasive species = a very Sunshine State solution.
These days, I don’t live far from Marco Island—the largest of the so-called Ten Thousand Islands sprinkled along the southernmost Florida gulf coast. As you may or may not know, this area of Florida struggles with multiple invasive species.
Pythons might get all the attention (including mine, here), but iguanas are some of the most visible. There are several I’ve gotten to know near my home, though I’ve never thought them too obtrusive to call John Johnson, the owner and founder of Down Goes Iguana.
He’s one of several contractors authorized by the state to use what they call “humane deadly force” to mitigate the iguana population in the area. (If you’re bothered by the euphemism for precision air rifle hunting, please share your disgust with the people who let their exotic pets go into the wild.)
Not only boasting one of the easiest-to-remember names in the history of mass marketing, John Johnson is a Florida man through and through.
Oh no, he’s not eating iguanas.
He’s eating their eggs.
As you might guess, he catches a lot of gravid females. Carrying 21 to 75 eggs, failing to catch one in time means a geometric increase in the local population. (You can learn more here, but a warning: Hunters and anglers will get it, but to everyone else, it’s pretty gross.) All invasive species hunters focus on females for precisely this reason, though Johnson’s solution is more novel than most.
Johnson, perhaps seeing the skyrocketing price of chicken eggs, asked the obvious question?
What do iguana eggs taste like?
Let’s let him answer that question:
“It tastes like eggs because they are eggs. If I put this in front of you and didn't tell you what it was, you’d have no clue,” Johnson said, laughing. “It doesn't get more Florida than this.”
Indeed.
My adopted home is…a unique place.
I’ll be a bit more careful at my local breakfast cafe. At least, I’ll ask a few questions I wouldn’t have thought to ask before.
Basically, Johnson scrambles them up, adds some spices and veggies, and cooks an iguana omelet. Unfortunately, iguanas won’t sit in an iguana-house and lay eggs on command, so the egg extraction process is a bit more like gutting a fish. No “iguana that laid the golden egg” as it were, so this would struggle as a sustainable business model.
If Johnson was thinking of this as more than a publicity stunt (which is a good strategy on its own), he might want to consider a trial partnership with a place like Cracklin’ Jacks in Naples. They already sell alligator bites, frog legs, chicken liver, and vittles. Adventurous diners might be willing to give an iguana omelet a try. And if it catches on…Johnson might have a bigger business opportunity on his hands than his trusty air rifle.
Regardless of Johnson’s intentions, he’s found an novel way to approach the invasive species problem: Eat them. Unfortunately, if Johnson is successful and we all start eating iguana omelets, we’ll have a different problem. It’s like funding preschool with cigarette taxes…if you successfully discourage smoking, you cut off a funding source for schools. If Johnson is successful, we’re going to want to recast the iguana invasion as a migration.
But that’s a problem for another day.
Channeling this spirit of ingenuity, Johnson inherits a long tradition of “eating what’s available” in human history. However, it’s just as much an homage to a century of innovators stretching back to the Great Depression.
In my upcoming book, Bullfrogs, Bingo, and the Little House on the Prairie, I’ve included two chapters on food: One on bullfrog farming (part of the book’s namesake) and another on so-called Penny Restaurants. Both of them tell the stories of people addressing food shortages (and the very-real risk of starvation) by ingenious means.
In fact, fishing and hunting as a major sporting activity got a huge boost from the 1930s for obvious reasons. Protein was expensive. If you lived near a body of water, you fished. If you lived near a forest, you hunted. If you had space in the backyard, you raised hens.
By the way, eggs were so valuable—even then—that people used the brand new cellophane “Scotch” tape from 3M (invented in the 1930s) to seal cracked eggs either to eat later or to hatch into chicks. It works. Really.
I’m not sure we’re at the point where I’m taping an egg I mistakenly crack in the carton, but at 70 cents each at their highest price early this month, maybe I should reconsider? I ran the numbers on a 1-inch strip of tape. I comes out to about half a penny. (The good stuff from 3M; not the generic stuff. That’s junk.) 140X is a pretty good ROI, don’t you think?
I’m not sure it’s worth running down my neighborhood iguana for a snack, but who knows? How expensive will eggs need to get at Publix for me to start giving the iguanas outside the side eye?
I’ll keep you posted.
Speaking of keeping you posted…
Early reader feedback is coming in!
Thanks to everyone who’s had an early look! Here are some of the comments so far:
“Human beings are very resilient, creative and opportunistic. Jason does a wonderful job of identifying and telling the stories. A great attribute is any chapter reads as a stand alone essay.”
“A must read for Gen Z. Period.”
“As a ‘Boomer’ I can totally relate to the merit of this book in its goal to re-establish the thesis in a much needed look at perseverance. This book serves to make the point (and perhaps a warning) that too often those who survive a difficult period of time in life will try hard to keep their children from experiencing the same trials. Unfortunately, we know all too well that sailing with ease with a warm breeze is not the real world of life that faces stormy seas.”
“We have much to learn from the grit, innovation, and ingenuity of those who lived through the Great Depression and the years surrounding this period.”
In response to the question: What was the most surprising thing you learned?
I did not know the story of Monopoly, and I loved reading this narrative. Well told.
Masking tape was invented before cellophane tape, and cat gut isn’t likely from a cat!
A 1946 Superman radio program changed public perception of the KKK such that the KKK lost membership and was never able to recover.
The background story to the development of color photography with “colorful” characters and unlikely pairings of talent was very interesting. The other thing most interesting was the converging of the Al Capone, Eliot Ness and Dick Tracy story.
I’m excited to share the pre-order link as soon as it’s ready. I’m more than halfway through recording, audio mastering, and final editing…so, close!