As I was having lunch at l’Hotel Sainte-Marie, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation of a very English family that included a small boy and girl. The boy ordered a hot dog and the girl, about 7 years old, ordered an omelette. When it arrived, her grandmother encouraged her:
“Omelettes come from France! It should be quite nice. France is where omelettes come from!”
Picture me, trying to hide a smile, imagining omelettes arriving from France, fully formed, to breakfast tables around the world….
That recipe for omelettes is crazy – one kilo of cheese (2.2 pounds to Imperial folk) for only two eggs! Would you like some egges to go with that cheese? Crazy!
Ha, I didn’t catch the kilo of cheese part. Maybe it’s just a block of cheese with a couple eggs to hold it together. That would jive with my memory of French omelettes…
So, two pounds of cheese… um, I don’t think I could eat two pounds of cheese in a sitting. In any guise. I just couldn’t. Maybe the whole family will share. Share the French love!
I kind of think it might be the size block of cheese you get, for grating purposes. But I don’t know. I don’t think the site I linked to is an actual French site, anyway. And remember, France is where omelettes COME from!
I’m visualizing families of French omelettes, shoulders wrapped in wool blankets, on the prow of a ship as they sail for Britain, like Hueguenots, traumatized and world- (skillet- ?) weary…
“Bring me your tired, your poor, your curdled masses….”
Your one-kilo curdled masses, that is. (Ew?)