Egg-Ward Spatula Hands

I made what I would consider to be quite possibly the best omelette that I have ever eaten. I was puttering around in the morning on Facebook and was getting really bored with what the site had to offer. So I thought of the small amount of food that was in our refrigerator and remembered that we had a fresh parmesan cheese brick as well as half a dozen eggs. I also thought about the fresh garden herbs that were growing in a pot on my porch and realized that I should probably put them to good use before a frost came to take them. Parsley Parmesan omlettes were officially on the docket for breakfast and I was going off the cuff to make them with no idea on how they would taste. I had never had that type of Parmesan before and parsley, although versatile can be volatile if used it took large a dose.

I took my time and made Nick's first. Although he was still asleep, I knew it was only a matter of time before he would wake up and grumble that I had not made him something, but my stomach was grumbling so his was a quick fix. I think his might have come out better than mine, but mine was made with a more sincere love as I knew what I was doing the second time around. I did not rush as I allowed the eggs to warm slightly before cracking them, and as I snipped the parsley into a small container. I had used a little more parmesan the first time around so I grated the brick a little bit more, savoring the smell of it as it fell into the small tupperware container as well as the counter. I cracked my eggs, salted and peppered them and wisked them in a measuring cup then I threw them into the pan to let them sizzle just long enough to sprinkle the remaining parsley and parmesan onto them.

I flipped them and waited as they steamed (my secret to making them fluffier) It was the longest three minutes of my life, but the toast I was making was able to crisp just enough, and get buttered. By that time saliva was hitting the floor and Nick was half finished with his, so I slipped it onto a plate and ran it into the living room to eat with Nick as I enjoyed my coffee. My computer sat in front of me, with pictures of facebook glaring at me, but I ignored them as well as whatever Nick had put on the television and was lost in the dream of my omlette.

Quite possibly too perfect for words, and now officially a staple in my life. I think weekends were made for sleeping in as well as enjoying moments like this that I have with food.