Thank you for the overcooked omelet

English: An omelet with ham, cheese, and a gar...

There’s a diner near my apartment that overcooks the omelets. My cheese omelet inevitably has that tell-tale brown crispiness on the edges with burnt blisters splotching up the whole thing. There’s a bit of a crispiness and a certain unusual chewiness to this omelet, and I love it! Every single time that omelet lands in front of me in that shape I smile and dig right into it.

Recently, it occurred to me why I like my omelets in this shape. Though I was often hungry as a child, my grandmother always made sure I had something to eat when I stayed with her. She would pour copious amounts of vegetable oil into the pan prior to pouring in my scrambled eggs. I had crispy, greasy eggs that were like no other eggs I had consumed prior to that time. I only knew powdery fake scrambled eggs and my grandmother’s version.

My grandmother was the poorest person I knew, but she always made sure I was fed, and never hungry. She’s the reason I love my eggs overcooked.

 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

4 thoughts on “Thank you for the overcooked omelet

  1. Pingback: The chase for mini beef wellingtons | A Year in the Life of PTSD

  2. Pingback: Country Omelete | Tale of Two Tomatoes

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