Scrmbled Eggs

That seems such a simple title. The truth is that there is nothing simple about scrambled eggs. They can be large-curd or small-curd, soft or hard, with milk or without, plain or with additions. Most omelets start out the same way as most scrambled eggs. The difference is in the cooking.

I’m from the beat-the-hell-out-of-the eggs, beat the fresh-ground pepper in well, and salt after pouring into the pan school. No milk. Most short-order cooks break the eggs onto the grill and stir like mad with the spatula and let the customer salt and pepper to taste. The best restaurant scrambled eggs I ever ate I enjoyed at the Williamsburg Inn in the late 1960’s. They were perfect. They had been pre-beaten and cooked to the exactly correct consistency with enough butter to enrich the flavor. I understand that cooks in British country houses had a trick to keep the scrambled eggs on the sideboard from getting hard and dry over the warmers: They would add one last beaten raw egg to the cooked product just before sending it out to the dining room. With the salmonella phobia we all enjoy so much, this is probably not an option.

The addition of milk makes a softer but not runny product. The addition of cheese also makes a softer product. I love extra-sharp cheddar, grated finely so it melts into and amalgamates with the eggs. Yum. An old favorite from my childhood is adding canned herring roe. The roe has a mild fish flavor that gives you enough variation to be extra tasty without being overpowering. I haven’t noticed canned herring roe on store shelves lately, but I haven’t been looking. I live with people who say, “Eeew.” I suppose you could add cooked shad roe but that seems such a waste. Shad roe’s worth another blog entry all by itself. I’ll probably do that one day, but today it’s chicken eggs.

Eggs are cheap, nutritious, satisfying and, when cooked to individual taste, a gastronomic delight. When made into omelets they become luncheon or after-theater supper mainstay with the addition of fillings, and can be anything from rustic to haute cuisine.
Conventional omelets can be filled with sautéed chopped sweet and hot peppers and Southwestern spices. They can be stuffed and topped with grated cheddar cheese (I like to beat chives into the eggs first for this one). They can be filled with sour cream and topped with sour cream and caviar. Speaking of sour cream, that’s a filling that cries out for shredded smoked salmon. There really is no end to the variation you can get with an omelet. I recently used sautéed scallions, leftover baked salmon, and cream cheese to make a filling. Exquisite!

My father once described the way his stepmother made omelets. She was New Orleans French and her method was to separate the eggs, whip the whites almost into a meringue, beat the yolks, fold them together, and bake in the oven. There is a region of France, but I forget what region, where there is a restaurant that makes almost nothing else but that style omelet. Other variations include the Spanish frittata and Chinese egg foo yung, and those are just the better-known permutations. Almost every culture that keeps chickens for eggs does omelets.

There is no end to the taste sensations you can get with scrambled eggs. There’s nothing simple about them, from the scrambling technique, to the cooking technique, to the flavoring technique. Start experimenting in your kitchen, and don’t forget, “Hot pan, cold fat, food won’t stick.” It’s a trick that works.

Bon Cuisine

(c) 2008 Katherine DeWitt