Omelette …

So simple, yet so easy to screw up …

I’ll probably go through 8 or 10 eggs practicing this weekend. But they’ll all be eaten – I practice on my doorman and the rest of the building staff.


I finally conquered the omelet recently. The trick is to keep swirling the egg around the pan and up the sides till it’s just set.

And plus you need a good pan. And absolutely pristine butter and eggs. Which you can’t get in NYC. The butter is all rancid. And heat the plates. The butter should foam around the omlette as it’s served. Apart from that, carry on. My vote goes to fines herbs. See note re butter.

For some reason I have it in my head that the eggs have to be room temperature … so I warm them. Don’t know where I heard it, but it’s stuck in my brain.

They do. Or should be. They must for mayonnaise. But everything is better for being out of the fridge for an omelette so it can caress its ingredients into a foaming, melting succulence.

@Benedick: The omelette I made on Sunday must have been better because I let everything sit out for half an hour … some cooking rules enter my head despite my ignorance.

Room temperature: necessary. Good pan: better.

Good ingredients: priceless.

@Benedick: A foaming, melting succulence must always be served at room body temperature.

Oh, Bloggie, now that she’s dead is cool to nostalgically love her, she was certainly amusing, for an old wasp old boy ex-spook, but really, she could not cook to save her life. Do the Laundry. The reality is she’s everything I hate, the old gentry, the kind who inherit positions at State and the Agency and go into writing and publishing because they’re all connected and in her case, on to PBS because its all connected, the establishment wasp nepotism fuckwads, some go this way, the arty kind, they have this network to support their own, and the others run Westinghouse and build atom bombs, or play with other people’s money on wall street.

@blogenfreude: My boss brings in brown eggs his hens lay, these would be good for what you are trying. They are stiff, erect, and proud when you crack them into a pan, the whites, and the yolks, stand up like the starkly erect nipples of a braless 20-year old in the freezer section, trying to choose the perfect ben and jerrys flavor.

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