It wouldn’t seem so, but even something as ostensibly simple as an omelet can cause controversy. How long do you whisk the eggs? Speaking of whisking, do you whisk in water? Milk? Cream? Do you add cheese? Most say yes, but some, like my culinary hero, Alton Brown, say the perfect omelet is eggs only. What about other fillings? Still in the minority, a larger number of folks hold the line at cheese, saying no to such things as onions, potatoes, and ham. Even issues regarding how many eggs go in an omelet or even whether it’s spelled omelet or omelette are open for debate. I feel the same with this issue as I do with the question of when to put up your Christmas tree or whether pineapple goes on pizza. The answer is everyone needs to do what makes them happy and let everyone else do the same. Are you a purist? Enjoy your fluffy, cheeseless eggs. Like yours filled with everything but the kitchen sink? Stuff away! Just don’t tell someone else their method is inferior. Let’s all agree to live and let fry.

While I normally find the inimitable Mr. Brown quite intelligent when it comes to what works and what doesn’t, food-wise, I just can’t get on board with the plain egg omelet. His argument is that the pan would have to be too hot and the cooking process would have to be too long to cook the fillings, which would turn the eggs into vulcanized rubber. My response to that is he’s right–if you’re dumb enough to try to cook your fillings at the same time as your eggs. But who would do that? When I make my omelets, I start by chopping potatoes, onions, and bell peppers. I add mushrooms if I’m feeling fancy. I saute those in the same non-stick pan I’m going to use to cook the eggs. And I do it in that order. I cube the potatoes and add them to the preheated and lubricated–I like extra-virgin olive oil–pan. While those are browning, I chop the onion, add it, and finish up with the peppers. If I include mushrooms, I put them in last because I don’t like them cooked to death.

Once the veggies are cooked through, I slide them out onto a plate, covering them with a paper towel and then a kitchen towel to keep them from getting soggy and cold while I cook up the eggs. I don’t really need to worry, though, because they take literally seconds to cook, especially if I’ve remembered to whisk them up ahead of time. I use three eggs and add milk or whipping cream, depending on what I have. Maybe I’m an uncivilized brute with a stunted palate, but I have a hard time telling the difference. And when I say I have a hard time, I mean there’s no difference as far as I can tell. At any rate, I whip the egg and dairy mixture until it’s all incorportated, add another light glug of oil to a pan, which I’ve turned from medium-high to medium low, and pour in the eggs. I use a ten-inch pan, so once the bottom is starting to set, I use a wooden spoon to push the eggs to the center on one side and tilt the pan to let the wet mixture to fill the vacated spot. If the eggs are large, I may have to do that on two sides. But once the eggs are probably about 70% solid, I add back the veggies and a generous helping of finely shredded cheese (I prefer sharp cheddar), but only on the half of the omelet away from the pan’s handle.

Here’s the part where I do follow Alton Brown’s method. If I’ve done my job and haven’t had the heat too high, the omelet should be completely loose from the pan. If it is, I pick up the pan, but with the palm of my hand on the bottom of the handle. I then slide the half of the omelet with all the fillings onto a plate, gently flipping the empty side over onto the fillings. Voila!

The first time Harry ever made an omelet for Dee, she went a bit crazy over how delicious it was. Happily, her real-life counterpart, my beautiful Sarah, had a similar reaction. She prefers omelets for dinner rather than breakfast, though. I’m fine with that, though a huge omelet on a Saturday morning, accompanied by home-baked biscuits, homemade apple butter, and a ridiculous amount of coffee make for a joyful start to the day.