The egg- the inarguable sovereign of the kitchen. One of nature's greatest gifts to the cook. A perfect meal, bite, or companion to a whole host of ingredients. The egg is one of the vital pillars to cuisine, that, in my opinion, far outweighs any other ingredient in your larder. Take a carrot (perhaps an unfair comparison). When you slice through a carrot what do you get? More carrot. However, when you crack open an egg, inside this beautifully fragile shell, reveals not one ingredient but two. These both carry entirely different properties and what is so unique, is that they can be used separately or indeed together.
The first time I made an omelette professionally was on my first day in Thornton’s, a 1 Michelin star restaurant on Stephen’s Green in Dublin led by the renowned Chef Kevin Thornton. I was 18, green as you could possibly be (not only by name) and had just gotten the job, having successfully pleaded to Kevin that he hire me. I called repeatedly, asking if he would take a commis chef on, and when he said that this wasn’t something they did due to the inexperience such a role brought to the kitchen, I told him I would work for 6 months without wages. I was hired the following week.
Growing up, the omelette my mother made was typically golden brown, caramelised, flipped in half, but not before it was stuffed, often with ham and cheese, and a sly mushroom or two if she could fit it in. I would later learn that the omelettes that had been central to many of my lunches were, in fact, the American Omelet. The French Omelette, on the other hand, a dish with clear distinction and rules that separates it from its American counterpart, is a pale, starkly different breed of egg cookery. The omelet, as opposed to the omelette, is typically browned and cooked through, the filling providing the richness. But with a French omelette, through rhythmic agitation and expert timing, the goal is to achieve delicate fine curds, which gently begin to set within the pan. Then through a series of skilled taps, nudges, tilts and tucks, while the egg remains loose on top, allowing gravity to do the work, it is rolled over itself, and served naked on a buttered white plate. Its measure of success determined by the contrast of the quality of the roll, and the release of the delicate curds incased within.