The eggs of Bresse deserve notice as well as the chickens. Visiting Bourg-en-Bresse in 1882, Henry James sat down to bread and butter and boiled eggs that were ‘so good I am ashamed to say how many of them I consumed. It might seem that an egg which has succeeded in being fresh has done all that can reasonably be expected of it. But there was a bloom of punctuality, so to speak, about those eggs of Bourg, as if it had been the intention of the very hens themselves that they