OMELET

BANISH ANY THOUGHTS OF SCRAMBLED EGGS. What we’re talking about here is a soft, delicate, glistening yellow envelope enclosing a warm, custard-like interior of softly cooked egg whites and just a hint of melted Gruyere cheese.

My initial exposure to a true omelet was on my first visit to New Orleans. It was a business trip and I stayed at a place called the French Market Inn, a small hotel just off Bourbon Street. It was in the mid-70s and the Quarter was not yet the bacchanalian oasis in the middle of a war zone that it had become by the time we let our daughter, Carey, go there for her college education in the 90s. It was bacchanalian in the 70s but without the overtones of danger that came to haunt the side streets and somehow turn bacchanalia into tawdry in the coming decades.

I was having a late breakfast before heading off to the airport and a flight back home to Pittsburgh. The dining room was white-table-cloth elegant; the service tuxedoed; and the prices beyond what I could justify on my expense report. I ordered an omelet and, besides having a breakfast to remember, took yet another step in my emerging amateur chef career.

After that, I just couldn’t go back to what most people think of as an omelet. For most of us, an omelet is what we get when we do one of those breakfast buffets at a nearby hotel on Mother’s day morning. But trust me, they don’t make omelets there. They make a sometimes tasty, sometimes well-prepared scrambled egg cooked like a pancake and rolled around some sort of stuffing. It may taste good, but it’s not an omelet.

An omelet is the most simple (ingredients) and one of the most difficult (technique) breakfast preparations you will ever undertake. It will take time to master, so don’t get discouraged. More time is spent getting ready to cook the omelet than the cooking itself, which takes about a minute—start to finish.

A few words about the pan: For years, I diligently worked to season the perfect omelet pan: baking it in an oil bath; gently scrubbing it with salt after each use; storing it carefully so nothing could scratch the surface. Then one afternoon, I came home to find my daughter, Kim, frying a hamburger in my beautifully seasoned pan. So I bought a non-stick one. It works just as well.

I use one that’s 10 inches in diameter with sloping sides. Some folks like an eight-inch one, some a 12-inch. I think a bigger pan lets the eggs spread out too much and cook too fast. A smaller one doesn’t allow enough time for the center to begin setting before the outside begins to brown. If the outside is brown, it’s overcooked and will be tougher than it should be.

Here’s what you’ll need for one omelet. If your wife, significant other or kids want one too, just repeat the recipe a few more times.

Omelet: The Recipe

For one

Ingredients

Two extra large eggs, large ones are ok too. Just bring them to room temperature. Put them in a bowl of hot tap water and let them sit while I get the other things ready.

About two tablespoons of warm water. Scoop out a handful of the hot tap water in which the eggs have been warming.

Salt and pepper to taste

1 tablespoon butter. It should be soft, at room temperature.

Any filling you want, but limit it to 3 tablespoons. Get these done ahead of time. Chop the mushrooms, shred the cheese, sauté the onions or peppers, etc.

First: Put the dishes on which you’re going to serve the omelets in a warm oven. They should be hot to the touch when you use them. Three minutes in a 225°F oven will do the trick. Put the toast in the toaster. Warm your omelet pan—either a well-seasoned iron skillet or a non-stick fry pan—over medium high heat.

Second: Break the room-temperature eggs into a bowl. If you’ve left them for more than two minutes or so, they may be slightly coddled. Don’t worry. It’s ok.

Third: Add a handful of warm water. (I use my hand and scoop the warm water from the bowl; it’s about two tablespoons.) Season the eggs with salt and pepper. Using a fork, stir the eggs 10 times (no more!) incorporating as little air as possible. The eggs will not be uniformly mixed together. Make sure all of your fillings are handy, push down the toaster lever and open the oven door. From here on, things happen fast.

Fourth: Place a tablespoon of softened butter in the pan. The butter should immediately sizzle, but not turn brown. If it doesn’t sizzle, it’s not hot enough. If it turns brown, the pan is too hot. Wipe out the burned butter and start again. When the sizzling subsides, immediately pour the eggs into the pan, tilting it to cover the bottom.

Fifth: Lift the edges of the egg mixture as it sets to allow most of the uncooked portion to go beneath the egg. Use a small, thin spatula. A butter knife works well too. Don’t worry about tears in the egg or bunching it up a little; the tears will heal and the egg will smooth out with a few jerks of the pan.

Sixth: Before the top sets (we’re talking 30-45 seconds from dropping in the eggs), add the filling in a line down the center of the egg (don’t overstuff it).

Seventh: Fold a third of the egg over the mixture, folding away from the handle of the pan.

Eighth: Remove the heated plate from the oven with your right hand (unless your left handed). Don’t forget an oven mitt!

Ninth: Pick up the pan with your other hand, holding the handle with your palm up. Touch the edge of the pan opposite the handle to the warm plate, holding each at an angle and flip the pan over so that the egg folds over on itself and falls on the plate. (Don’t worry it will.)

Tenth: Serve immediately. The heat of the plate will finish the cooking. If the outside of the omelet is not browned and the white inside the center of the omelet is creamy—not runny, not hard—you’ve created the perfect omelet and you’ll never order one out again.

And finally: If you’re not dining alone, start all over again on one for yourself.