Omelets for all

March 29, 2020

Life in the time of the coronavirus is eerily quiet. I have never become fully used to the quietude of my adulthood home and now the lack of people-generated noise feels especially imposing. The youngest of six children, I was raised in a city with my parents’ parents living a mile or so away. A bevy of aunts, uncles and cousins were part of my quotidian world. Houses were small and gatherings were large, noisy, chaotic and mostly loving. Life in general was that way.

My parents believed that life is with people. They had a lot of friends, a lot of interests. My mom’s response to any request to have someone over for dinner or a sleepover was invariably, “What’s one more?” This was her attitude towards seats at the table in general. There was always room for one more.

My parents loved music; my dad still does. In the later stages of dementia, music is a blissful space of familiarity for him. Until we began to follow recommendations for social distancing, he and I would take drives and sing along to playlists I made of his favorite Catholic church hymns, Irish songs and classics from the American folk tradition. He still knows all the words.

In summers, my parents attended chamber music concerts in a small congregrational church in western Massachusetts. Afterwards, musicians and concert-goers would be “fed and watered” by local hosts. Mom and Dad often hosted what became raucous parties that began after 10pm and went late into the night and into the wee hours of the morning. My mother would fret about what to serve and how much it would cost, because she was the worrier. My father, always cavalier in a joyous sort of way, would say, “Just buy some eggs. I’ll make omelets.”

“I’ll make omelets.” A response to mouths to feed, a refrain from my childhood, a prayer of togetherness. Now, a song of hope for a future filled with our people. Omelets for all.

My childhood memories of my parents’ after-concert parties are redolent with laughing, curious adults crowded into the kitchen, watching carefully as Dad prepared omelet after omelet. He didn’t entertain them; his cooking did. Even though it was a somewhat wild scene, my father was in a space of his own with only the eggs, the pan, the seven seconds between mixture hitting the pan and the gentle turn. Each omelet took him about one minute to prepare from start to finish. As they were ready, he would serve them on warm plates and happy eaters would stay in the kitchen, more enthralled than ever when they tasted the delicate marvels that were my father’s omelets. They were right to be entranced; they were watching a master at work.

Really, they are like no others. He “studied” under a cook at a hotel he and my mom would go to, charmingly barging into the kitchen and begging to learn the art of the most delicious omelet he had ever tasted. It is very hard to say no to my father’s enthusiasm, and the cook in that hotel was no exception. Family lore has it that Dad made omelets for unwitting guests to perfect his skills.

However, my father had other training. The child of a traveling shoe salesman with a 6^th grade education, he went to college on a wing and a prayer and with the help of an older cousin. He paid his own way through school, working as a waiter in the faculty dining hall of the University of Pennsylvania and parking cars for all major university events. As a law student, he moonlit as a short order cook in several of West Philly’s greasy spoons. My father knew his way around an egg.

Below, I share my father’s “recipe” in his own words. I’ve transcribed his essay on the omelet, taken from a 1975 cookbook he and my mom put together for the St. Mary’s Home and School Association in Meriden, CT. I’ve also included photos of the actual recipe. Look closely, and you will see my mother’s edits, in her inimitable disciplined scrawl. She was always there beside my dad, the structure to his chaos.

I hope you make these omelets. When this pandemic crisis has passed, I hope you invite people over and that you make omelets for all of them. I hope you make lots of joyful noise together. My father, now almost 90, would be delighted to know that his omelets and his spirit live on.

The omelet is one of the more versatile creations available to the cook. Serve an omelet for breakfast, lunch, brunch or late supper. It’s truly an economical dish that can be served simply or with any number of sauces, plain or fancy.

There are innumerable ways you can prepare and omelet, but I find the simple French method is best. All you need is an omelet pan or an oval skillet, a small bowl, a fork or wire whisk, and a little butter and eggs. Bring your eggs to room temperature by placing them in a bowl of warm water. Break 2 eggs in a whole and beat lightly with a fork or wire whisk.

If you do not have an omelet pan which has been properly seasoned, use a round skillet and spray with no-stick spray. If you like omelets, it is worth the modest investment in a cast aluminum omelet pan. Season the pan by filling it with cooking oil and then place it on your burner at the lowest heat setting and let remain for 8 hours or overnight. Never wash the pan. If it needs cleaning for any reason, use a piece of steel wool with a little cooking oil on it. (Author’s Note: This isn’t the ‘70s, so please don’t leave hot oil on a turned-on stove overnight. Also, I make omelets just fine in a no-stick frying pan.)

To cook an omelet, place 1 tablespoon of butter (sweet butter produces a more tender omelet) over high heat. Let the butter melt and when it begins to turn slightly brown, pour in the eggs. Let the egg mixture set until you count to 7 and then swirl the egg mixture around the pan until the mixture builds up and all is set. Now, with a table fork, roll the omelet by tipping the pan and folding or rolling to the side opposite the handle.

The filling or sauce you select provides the versatility. Try a simple cheese omelet. Use very thinly sliced American cheese slices on the omelet just before you roll it up. Other cheese can be used, i.e. cheddar, swiss, gruyere, provolone, but I find American has just the right flavor because it does not overpower the delicate egg.

A delightful fines herbes omelet can be mastered by simply shaking a little Lawry’s “Pinch of Herbs” on your omelet before you roll. This can be found where Lawry spice preparations are sold.

Any sauce can be served over an omelet provided you do not overpower the delicate flavor of the egg.

Sauté a little chopped onion in olive oil and add a quarter as much chopped green pepper, sauté until soft and add 3 times as much chopped tomato (fresh or canned). Bring to a boil (simmer, says my mom) and thicken slightly with arrowroot or cornstarch. (Mom says no.) Spoon the sauce over the omelet.

Try the left over sauce from the night before’s meat or fish dishes and enjoy the surprise!

An omelet can easily be mastered with only the investment of a dozen eggs. For an after the dance breakfast or holiday brunch, break your eggs (2 per person) into a large bowl and beat at moderate speed with an electric mixer. (I use a wire whisk.) Ladle the equivalent of two eggs into the pan. You will have to periodically lower the heat under the pan, as it will build up when cooking a number of omelets. Have all ingredients at hand, because each omelet can be turned out in 60 seconds. Sauces should be ready as well as a shaker or herbs and slices of cheese. Turn onto a plate warm from the oven or dishwasher, and enjoy the feast!

Bill Shea