Picture the scene: You cut through Costco at 9:01 a.m., searching for eggs. All you find are empty shelves, a hand-scrawled sign with bold “Limit 3 PER MEMBER,” and a few frustrated shoppers muttering about their brunch plans. Welcome to the Costco Egg Shortage, 2025 edition — where omelets were basically black market goods for a few weeks.
Let’s crack into how this scramble started, who got burned, and what comes next — with a few puns, just because we all need a little joy with our overcooked toast.
How It Started: The Bird Flu Blitz
Not your run-of-the-mill case of supply chain hiccups. This winter, the United States faced a monster outbreak of highly pathogenic avian influenza — “bird flu,” if you like your science with less syllables. Fast-moving and tough to contain, this virus tore through poultry farms like a sneeze on an airplane.
Egg-producing flocks took it especially hard. By the peak of the outbreak, more than 150 million birds had been culled nationwide. That’s a jaw-dropping number — picture every chicken in California, Texas, and Iowa, all gone. And eggs? Suddenly scarce, even in the warehouse wonderland of Costco.
Why It Mattered: The Breakfast Breakdown
Eggs are breakfast, lunch, protein bombs, and protein shortcuts. Whether you’re keto, counting macros, or just craving a frittata, you need them. Now, suppliers couldn’t keep up, and warehouses got eerily quiet. This wasn’t just about brunch. Bakeries, food manufacturers, and classic diner counters across the country all hit the panic button.
Eggs vanished from shelves. Prices flew the coop. Suddenly, the cost of a dozen eggs at Costco soared — peaking at a budget-bruising $4.95 in February. Weekends saw lines before doors opened; the real Black Friday was now happening every Saturday morning, and all you got was a breakfast staple.
Costco Scrambles: The Great Egg Ration
Costco isn’t exactly known for scarcity. You come for ten pounds of coffee, you leave with enough paper towels to outlast an apocalypse. But when it came to eggs in early 2025, things got… Soviet. The solution? Purchase limits. Most stores capped you at 2–3 cartons per member (and some online shoppers managed to snag up to 5, but only if they refreshed fast).
Employees taped up big laminated signs: “Limit 3 PER CUSTOMER — Thank You For Your Cooperation.” Some days, there were no eggs at all — just a sad, empty space next to the bulk cheese and ham. And don’t get cute: circling back through the register twice meant getting ambushed by staff who’d seen it all.
Even the online store joined the clampdown. A lucky few could click their way to egg salvation, but those virtual eggs vanished as quickly as they arrived.
“Panic Buying” Gets Personal
Eggs turned into social currency and Costco into a destination. There were stories of people lining up 40 minutes before opening, all clutching Costco IDs like golden tickets. Buyers coordinated egg runs in family group chats. Some brazen souls stashed extra eggs in purses — or baked them into pound cakes just to say they hadn’t wasted the trip. If someone wheeled out three cartons, you’d catch side-eye from folks who’d only gotten one.
What was really happening? Good old-fashioned panic buying. When your group chat blows up with “no eggs left on aisle 12,” the next thing you know, you’re in the car — pajamas, bedhead, and all. People snatched up what they could. Some stores introduced special lines just for eggs. The vibe was somewhere between a Taylor Swift merchandise drop and an 1890s run on the bank.
Sticker Shock: When “Bulk Savings” Vanishes
Costco’s selling point has always been value per unit — eggs for less, so you can feed an army (or just your brunch-happy roommates). During the shortage, though, membership lost some of its magic. Prices shot up nearly 50% in a matter of weeks. In February, $4.95 per dozen had people second-guessing their frittata plans. Analysts logged the highest spike in egg prices in five years.
As March rolled around and new flocks came online, things began to cool. By late March, prices dipped to about $3.27. Felt almost reasonable — until you remembered paying $2.49 a year ago.
Pro tip: Shortages always teach us something, mostly about patience and, well, how good a tofu scramble can be.
The Chicken and the (Empty) Basket: Other Retailers React
Costco’s not alone in the eggs race — or the eggs famine, in this case. Trader Joe’s, Sprouts, Kroger, Albertsons — they all put up the “two carton limit” warning. Some even rationed across all protein products. If you thought switching stores would save you, think again. Every grocery chain was enforcing strict limits. That’s what happens when more than 150 million birds exit the supply chain in a matter of weeks. National supply was gutted, and stores were left handing out apologies.
Government officials stepped in, asking retailers to maintain order and avoid outright brawls in the dairy aisle. Producers scrambled to contain the outbreak, cull infected flocks, and restart supply — but chickens don’t grow overnight. Meanwhile, social feeds were filled with sad fridge selfies and long lines at warehouse clubs.
Social Media: Viral Tweets, Empty Shelves, and TikTok Tours
Here’s the twist — the real story wasn’t just happening in the dairy aisle. Egg shortages became TikTok-famous. Users documented barren shelves, wild Costco lines, and people hauling out egg cartons like they’d mined gold. The hashtag #EggShortage2025 made the rounds, racking up millions of views. Some posts were quirky — “I’ll trade you eggs for AAA batteries!” — but most were just folks commiserating.
Retailers noticed. They put up signs at doors saying, “Please do not panic buy.” Some tried to gamify the shortage (not recommended: one chain’s “Egg Quest” was politely ignored). Social media outrage, of course, did nothing to replenish supply. Sometimes, the internet just wants to watch the world burn — or at least, make an omelet meme.
The Rebound: Resupplying the Breakfast Table
By late March, the worst was over. A fresh generation of healthy hens started laying. Supply chains hummed again. Eggs — previously unicorn-rare — reappeared, and those “Limit: 2” signs slowly came down.
Sure, prices were still higher than they were last year, but the sticker shock faded. For now, we’re back to normal: You can stroll in and buy as many eggs as you need for your famous Saturday frittata. It felt like balance was finally restored. (Insert your own “egg equilibrium” joke here. I’ll see myself out.)
Serious question: Could this happen again? You bet. Producers are already investing in better biosecurity. Retailers are dusting off their “crisis signs” and prepping response plans. Expect a little more resilience and a little less panic next time — or so we hope.
Lessons from the Great Scramble
Here’s what matters. Shortages teach you who’s cool under pressure (shout-out to folks who didn’t punch anyone over eggs). They show just how intertwined supply chains are — one virus can scramble an entire national market in weeks. They push retailers to communicate fast and clearly, which matters for customer trust, not just PR.
For Costco and crew, the playbook is now clear: ration, post signs, use limits online and off, and get the PR team humming. Next time there’s a food shortage — eggs, flour, whatever — expect the same tactics.
If you’re a business operator or even a casual reader with a passing fondness for breakfast protein, here’s the upshot: Look for patterns. Today it was eggs. Last year, it was flour. Next, who knows? Resilient supply chains and calm consumer behavior are more valuable than the latest app or fancy logistics AI. (For more on market resilience, see this look at consumer trends from Front Business Mag.)
Final Thoughts: Resilience and a Side of Perspective
Costco’s egg shortage wasn’t just a weird blip; it was a crisp reminder that no supply chain is invincible. Bird flu outbreaks, unpredictable demand, and some nervous social media can upend breakfast for millions. But here’s the good news: The market responded, customers adapted, and the world didn’t actually run out of eggs — at least, not for long.
So the next time you waltz through Costco and breeze past loaded shelves, raise a (figurative) glass to supply chain teams, overworked hens, and every patient customer who waited it out. That’s resilience, with a side of sunny optimism — and plenty of protein.
Because sometimes, the secret ingredient isn’t in the kitchen. It’s in how we adapt, improvise, and keep making breakfast even when the eggs run out.
