Often it’s eggs and cheese and toast. No vegetables. There’s no time when I’m skimming around the kitchen with wet hair and bare feet. (Cold, bare feet. My cozy birthday slippers aren’t always where I think I left them.)
There are complaints. Breakfast is boring. Eggs are disgusting.
That is, until I started making thin omelets. A few months ago I remembered what my friend Chie showed us, way back at the beginning of this blog. I started using only a few tablespoons of eggs scrambled with salt, pepper and a splash of water, swirling it around the pan like crepe batter. And since I have the pan out, I slow down long enough to chop up a few leaves of greens and squeeze a clove of garlic through a press. It doesn’t take much to fill a couple of omelets – one for my egg-averse daughter and one for me – seeing as the two of them were made from a single egg.
The more available the produce, the better. Another reason to love late spring, when a few farmers pull a portion of their crop up early so we can eat the immature bulbs of sweet onions.
When I’m done eating them sautéed in butter and wrapped in an eggy cloak, I’ll try roasting them whole or popping them on the grill so we can scrape the gooey insides onto our plates or mix them in with the pestos and gremolatas that will be springing from the food processor.
