Lekker Brekker Monday: How to make a buttery, perfect omelette — and how not to make a foul one

I’m going to do the restaurant a favour and not name it, because I am not here to put places out of business. But the omelette I was served, let’s say “somewhere in the Karoo”, last Friday morning was a disgrace.

How to describe it? It was huge. HUGE. But, like a social media “celebrity” with thousands of words but nothing to say, it was all air and no substance. Fluffy! Boy was it fluffy. How much bicarbonate of soda went into that I don’t know. Maybe a whole packet.

This was an omelette of eggstreme unction; one that needed to be put out of its misery. Only not by eating it.

Eating it was like spooning evil yellow candyfloss into your mouth. Any semblance of egg had been subsumed by the millions of invisible bubbles produced by the bicarb. Somewhere in there were some melted cheese and bits of bacon, desperately trying to claw their way out before the very fires of Hades engulfed them.

I forced a few spoonfuls down and then, when the smiling waitress’ face turned crestfallen on sight of my uneaten eggy monstrosity, I lied. “It was delicious!” I cried, while the flames of Hell licked at my neck. “I just couldn’t finish it. Sorry!”

Poor woman. I’d asked beforehand, “Is it a three-egg omelette?” She’d simpered: “You’ll see, sir!” Then a customer exited, rolling her eyes suggestively. “We’ve taken a doggy bag! Gonna finish it at home!”

What was placed before me was a half-moon omelette cloud. A groaning pile of pale yellow froth. They had named it a soufflé omelette. I wished I had paid more attention to that word.

But how is a soufflé made? Not with bicarb! It is the beating of the egg whites that gives it that superbly fluffy texture.

A perfect soufflé tastes of the elements it is made of, whereas this “omelette” tasted only, exclusively, of bicarbonate of soda. To be even more blunt, it was the very worst omelette I have had the misfortune to eat. And I have been served plenty of omelettes that have not pleased me.

So, yes, I do need to own up to the fact that I am the customer from Hell in the omelette department. But — and it’s a but equally as huge as that soufflé omelette — when I am pleased with an omelette, I am very pleased.

Like the omelette I was served at Rawdons in the KwaZulu-Natal Midlands in June. It was fat and generous and oozing delectably melted cheese and bits of excellent Midlands bacon. It was EGGY in the way that an omelette should be eggy. Just eggs and butter and absolutely nothing else.

And it’s really that simple. Whether making scrambled eggs, fried eggs, or an omelette, never use anything but real butter. Oil does not do an egg any favours.

Oh, but wait, there’s more! Yes, even more eggy distress.

Where was I this time? Again, I’m not going to reveal the name of the restaurant. Let’s say it was “somewhere else in the Karoo”. A very famous spot, in fact. A place that’s even appeared in books.

Luckily, I didn’t think of photographing it. It had been described on the menu as salmon trout with scrambled eggs. But this “egg” was more white than yellow. A milky sauce seemed to be pouring out of it onto the plate. When I put my fork in to try to scoop it up, the milky residue escaped back to the plate.

My friend enjoyed a thick slice of melktert, but I swear there was more milk on my plate than his.

Let’s put things to rights and heal our blighted omelette world with a simple one made with love — and butter.

Tony’s Gorgonzola and chive omelette

Per 1 omelette:

Ingredients

3 jumbo eggs

2 generous Tbsp butter

Salt and cracked black pepper to taste

50g Gorgonzola cheese

1 Tbsp garlic chives

1 spring onion, finely diced

Method

Have any filling ingredients ready (portion out the Gorgonzola on a board, chop the chives and portion them too, so that you can grab them and add to the omelette when you need to).

Break the eggs into a bowl.

Put a smallish non-stick frying pan on a moderate heat (neither scalding hot nor too timid) and add butter.

Whisk the eggs by hand as though your very life depended on it. There are barbarians beating down the back door and they’re coming in to get you if the eggs are not beaten well.

When the butter is bubbling merrily but not yet burning, pour the beaten eggs into the pan while still whisking (seriously, I whisk them with my right hand while they’re sliding in, to get as much air in as possible till the very last moment).

Let the omelette settle and cook for about a minute, while tilting the pan this way and that and simultaneously using a metal spatula to pull the egg away from the edges at different points around the pan. This allows the runny egg to move to the bottom and the whole omelette to cook evenly.

Turn the heat down a little. When about two-thirds of the egg at the bottom is cooked, add the filling ingredients on top and use the spatula to fold the omelette in half.

Cook for about a minute more but don’t overcook them. I like an omelette that is a tiny bit runny in the middle. More than that and the egg risks becoming kind of squeaky. You don’t want that. Season with salt and cracked black pepper. Clean the pan under very hot running water and wipe dry with paper towel before adding butter to make the next omelette. DM

Follow Tony Jackman on Instagram @tony_jackman_cooks.

This dish is photographed on a plate by Mervyn Gers Ceramics.