Here we go, 2006 Guardian article:
It may seem an obscure concern, but if you were planning to do a spot of Easter egg-decorating this weekend, then it's one that may, so to speak, come home to roost. It's all very well to apply opaque paints to brown eggs, but if you use coloured pencils - and especially if you dye eggs - only white ones will do.
The trouble is, they are getting harder to find. Go to your supermarket and - organic, free-range or plain old battery-farmed - you can, to paraphrase Henry Ford, have any colour you like, so long as it's brown.
In past years, my quest for white eggs was answered by our local street market, which stocked them, I was told, because the largely Caribbean clientele preferred them. This year, no such luck. A more upmarket source had been Selfridges, in London, but now they, too, have discontinued whites: the palest eggs they had were those posh bluish ones. Last year, in desperation, I settled for duck eggs from a farmers' market. But they didn't take dye well.
In the 50s and 60s, white eggs were all you could find: the white-producing breeds were more efficient layers. Over time, though, consumers acquired the perception that they were like white bread (less nutritious, less wholesome), while brown eggs were almost exotic, sold in clear cases, shown off like jewels - and priced accordingly. As someone who grew up keeping chickens, I knew just what a sell that was. White leghorns laid white eggs and Rhode Island reds laid brown.
Since consumers regarded brown eggs as more "rustic", according to Kevin Coles at the British Egg Information Service, hybrids were bred to turn out one brown egg a day, year-round. Very rustic. England's retail eggs are now "almost 100% brown", says Coles. (Halal eggs, on the other hand, apparently have to be white.)
By this time, however, I had finally found the right eggs. Not in the sober setting of a ritual butcher's shop, but in the festive shrine to commerce that is Harrod's: Blackwell Hadden eggs, from Herons Farm in Essex. Laid by leghorns, and organic at that. Maybe, in years to come, white will be the new rustic.