omelette

Omelette, omelet, whichever you chose, is one of France's greatest inventions.

Thank you, France.

Cilantro / coriander, native to southern Europe and North Africa to southwestern Asia.

That means the Romans, Greeks and Egyptians all had cilantro, and that makes me love it even more.

Studies show that some people naturally hate it and other people naturally love it and ne'er the twain do meet. My own experience runs counter to those studies, for I am a reformed cilantrophobe. In fact, whereas before I was repulsed, now I look forward to its delightful aromatic KAPOW and find some dishes utterly hopelessly naked without it. From my point of view it's a matter of maturity, but according to Charles Wysocki, behavioral neuroscientist at Monell Chemical Senses Center, it's a matter of genetics. Wysoski took some chopped up cilantro to the annual twins festival at Twinsburg Ohio and learned that identical twins rated cilantro the same way, either loving or hating it, suggesting a strong genetic component. So who you gonna believe, me or a neuroscientist?

Said Julia Childs, "I would pick it out if I saw it and throw it on the floor."

Crazy broad, she did have a flare for cooking and for expressions. *genuflects*

* Omelette stuffed with fried rice left over from last night.

I learned to make an omelette from T.V. when I was in my teens. I learned the French way, high heat, dedicated pan (sometimes ruined by excessive heat), clarified butter, and lots of it, for its high smoking point able to withstand intense heat, rapid cooking, seconds of violent shaking to dislodge the curd and build it up toward the center. Lightly stuffed, if at all, seasoned gently with fine herbs, tarragon, chervil, and the like, a very light mild cheese if any, trifolded and tapped/rolled out of the pan onto a plate, its edges deftly and neatly tucked, to appear as a soft puffy little crescent moon. I became expert at this.

But now I do not do that.

Presently my technique uses low heat and gentle cooking. Gone is the fiery omelette-drama of my impetuous youth. I use regular unsalted butter in moderate amount, cook gently and un-stylistically push the curd toward the center of the pan with a fork or a knife, removing from heat before the egg is fully set. I tend to overstuff, which to me is the whole point, and which makes the omelette impossible to fold the customary French way. Rather, it resembles more of a burrito where scrambled egg puffed and in a sheet substitutes for a tortilla.

If I were serving this for brunch, and I wouldn't hesitate, I would prepare a thin wine/cheese sauce to compliment and to carry it right over the top.

Then I'd serve drinks in déclassé Mason jars just to dispel any charges of pretension and to uphold my things-white-people-like cred.