the perfect Omelette

April 15, 2008 /

Py and I had an amazing honeymoon, almost 15 years ago. We started in London, where we saw some plays and ate some bad food. We then spent a few days in Amsterdam, and went to the Anne Frank House, and ate yummy shwarma. Finally, we spent almost a whole week in Paris, in a hotel with rooms that looked like dungeons (not on purpose, just old buildings), and went to museums and ate wonderful yumminess. The best Chinese food I’ve ever had in my life was at a little deli type shop around the corner from our dungeon. We had the best meal of our lives there, too. (When on your honeymoon, wherever that may be, take my advice and spend the money on one AWESOME meal. I mean, come on, it’s your HONEYMOON for God’s sake!) One day, wandering the streets and admiring the beauty that is Paris in July, we decided to eat lunch at a small brasserie. And what could be more French for lunch in Paris than an omelette and a glass of wine? Not Chinese from the deli, I’ll tell you that much. So, omelettes it was.

Omelettes in the United States are yummy, and I enjoy them, but they’re different. At most places that you will go, they are fluffy, usually made with 3 big eggs, and the extras are wrapped inside, added at the last minute. Very yummy, very filling. Almost always breakfast food. Almost always stuffed with several ingredients. In France, an omelette can be found on many a lunch menu, and who knows, perhaps a dinner menu at a streetside cafe. They are not nearly so fluffy as American omelettes. While American omelettes are usually fluffy and yellow, French omelettes (at least mine) are slightly browned (like the one in the picture, above), not nearly so fluffy, and the egg is still just the tiniest bit soft in the middle, and they use fewer, simpler ingredients. Heaven. I believe I had a mushroom and Parmesan omelette way back when, with the mushrooms perfectly sauteed, then the eggs added, and finally the cheese at the end. It was served with a delicious salad, and a glass of wine, and thus became the perfect lunch, and the perfect omelette.

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