Omelet

Breakfast, seems like I've not thought about the morning meal in a while, but actually I have done. Yesterday's breakfast was incomparable, a bowl of spaghetti carbonara, which within twenty minutes had me reeling with postprandial hypotension; Thursday's breakfast was a sardine sandwich, can of tiny sardines with mustard and mayo on extra thin whole wheat toast, again a spell of ppht. Too much on calendar to allow that today, so a bit of guacamole and an omelet, we'll see how that does, can't tell yet.

Saturday is different if not special, a furosixty day, and the array of cardiac pills on Saturday only includes a weekly green capsule of 50,000 mg vitamin D. The mug of hot & black club coffee, and the omelet.

My history with omelets began our Navy years 1971-74, when Sunday evenings faithfully on b&w television we watched The French Chef with Julia Childs. She was charmingly casual and confident, and her show was perfect, with her wonderful melodious voice. I was caught up in her recipe for omelets, and we started cooking an omelet for each of us every Sunday evening to celebrate Julia Childs. Basically, the recipe for each omelet was one egg, whipped with a fork and a small handful of water added. Do not whip air into the egg, just a good beating. Grate or shred your cheese so it's ready. Skillet on the stove, sort of medium hot, and add a teaspoon of butter, just enough to grease the pan, not enough to "fry" your omelet.

Pour the egg into the hot skillet and start swishing the pan around on the burner, to even the egg out quite thin, including up the sides of the skillet. As it turns "cooked" pour on the cheese (or ham or whatever) in a line across the center of the developing omelet. Have your plate ready. With a thin spatula, fold the omelet over, lift the skillet and tip it so the omelet rolls as it dumps out onto your plate (I forgot to say, warm the plate ahead of Time so it doesn't cool the omelet). 

Now you have a long roll of perfect one-egg omelet on your plate: pour chili sauce or ketchup the full length of the omelet roll. We have several stainless steel forks and knives here for eating egg dishes, so the egg doesn't tarnish the silver. 

Okay, it's not confession Time, but I'll add this. The three-egg omelets you get in IHOP are very good, but they're very American and not what Julia Childs would ever have cooked. It's supposed to be just one egg. This morning, though, I used two eggs (Linda calls them "large" but they're tiny little things, when I buy eggs I buy "jumbo"), beat with fork, the proper handful of water, grated a huge pile of extra sharp cheddar cheese, and about half a cup of the most wonderful spaghetti sauce, that a friend gave us. It made a hefty omelet, but I used a big skillet, so was able to spread it out properly thin. Pour on the cheese, let it melt slightly, then the spaghetti sauce (already heated in the microwave). Fold over, tilt and roll out onto my plate. 

With heart pills, furosemide to help with fight to control weight, and mug of hot & black, a most excellent omelet. Julia Childs would not have been proud of me, but it was a perfect breakfast. Now I'm typing this blogpost while waiting to see if the ppht hits. If it does, fine, it'll just slow down the start of my Saturday.

Comic strips are some of my favorite things, and Cul de Sac is a top favorite. Don't need a printed paper anymore, because it's all available free online. 

Another favorite is For Better or for Worse, but I haven't looked at it lately. Michael is away at college, and too much of him recalls too much of myself as a boy and teen, adolescent, college years, for me to go back without sinking somewhat, so I don't look at it much anymore. Now and then. Right now, April wants a puppy. I pretty much stick to The Far Side and Calvin and Hobbes. This morning it's snowing, and Calvin is agonizing between whether to be good and get a load of toys for Christmas or to smash Susie with a snowball and lose everything Christmas stands for, which is toys. Said before, I also appreciate this image of a future Calvin

Life really is short, you know. We haven't much Time.

RSF&PTL

T88&c