Lettuce, cilantro, jalapeño.
Oh man. I looked forward to this and it does hit the spot. Exactly.
I think a French omelet is a rather plain thing. It's all about technique.
So maybe this is so overloaded with intense flavors that it must be called something else. True omelet form is only the beginning.
Last year I was in Iowa near the edge by Nebraska. The very heartland of America. The breadbasket. Corn all over the place. Corn experiments all over the place. Green colored million dollar farm equipment. All. Over. The. Place.
Yet you cannot find a good salad.
The hotel where we stayed was very nice. No complaints here. They advertised a special breakfast of omelets.
I asked the dining room woman where the omelet-guy would be.
She said, "There is no omelet guy."
The omelets are all mass produced. Egg foam poured into an omelet shaped mold, cooked precisely, popped out and packaged.
Again, I am not complaining. I'm describing. They were actually a bit closer to French omelets than mine are. But they are only egg and sometime egg and cheese.
And all the visitors were going, "Oh man, those omelets sure are the best!"
They were all mightily impressed with their excellence. And said so.
I really need them to be loaded with ingredients and slathered with more of the same or similar complementary ingredients. I need them permeated and drowning and smothered with extra flavor ingredients. I need the plate to be filled to the maximum with texture and color and flavors and stuff.
I'm American. It's what we do.
But for some strange reason, not in our heartland.
It's a dichotomy that I never quite understood.
And all those people, all of them, make me look like a toothpick.
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