Last week I wrote about Heat, which was really just shorthand for the different cooking methods used to apply heat to food.
So it seems logical to follow up by focusing on one of the few ingredients that you can apply every cooking method to — the humble egg. Of course it helps that class this week focused on eggs and the many ways they are applied in cooking.
If you want to practice your different cooking methods, there’s really no better place to start than with eggs. They can be scrambled, poached, fried, boiled, baked, sous vide, cured and even fermented in over 100 different ways. They can be used as a binder in meats (meatloaf), an emulsifier in sauces (hollandaise, mayonnaise, carbonara), a thickening agent for custards and fillings (pastry cream, quiche, cheesecake), a clarifier of soups and even wine (consommé, broth, stock), and a leavening agent (souffles, cakes, meringues).
What’s more, they’re relatively cheap, can be stored for a long time, and are remarkably consistent in portions (1 standard large egg = 2 oz, with the shell contributing .5 oz, the yolk another .5, and 1 oz for the whites).
When you think about it, hiding beneath that plain, unassuming eggshell is a culinary superhero with a wide range of powers. Honestly I don’t know how vegans get through the day.
In fact, the fundamental role eggs play in the culinary arts is encoded in the classic French toque – the tall, white, pleated hat that chefs traditionally wore (and in many cases still do). There are 101 pleats in the classic toque, said to represent the 101 different ways to cook an egg by itself, let alone all the ways eggs are included in other dishes.
Egg Components
Take away the shell and you have two very different but equally useful components — the white and the yolk.
The White
Also called albumen, egg whites contain most of an egg’s protein, but are 90% water. The role of proteins in cooking is to coagulate. The definition of coagulate is to thicken or become solid/semi-solid. As such, egg whites alone are used to create structure (think meringues), preventing crystallization in frozen preparations (like ice cream), and act as a leavening agent (souffles and cakes).
The Yolk
Yolks contain the egg’s fat (specifically a yolk is 50% water, 32% fat, 16% protein). Fat’s role in cooking is to provide flavor, but also to emulsify (meaning combining 2 or more ingredients together). That’s why yolks are used to bind, but also seal (prevent steaming), add color, and of course enrich.
In short, whites = firmness / yolks = creaminess. If I were to dig into every application of each of these here, this would be a very loooong post indeed. (There’s an entire chapter dedicated to eggs in the textbook “On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of The Kitchen” and it's 50 pages.)
Instead, let’s talk about that omelette…
Application: French Omelette
First, a few quick notes on what’s going on when you make an omelette.
Mixing: Beating the eggs into a foam encourages the fat (yolk) and protein (white) to bond, thereby extracting both their attributes (firm, yet creamy).
Heating: Remember the egg is mostly water. Applying heat coagulates the proteins and causes them to firm up (curds). But you want moist and creamy, not firm and rubbery. So your options are hot and fast, or low and slow.
Time and Heat: Scrambled eggs should be cooked low and slow with constant stirring so no “skin” forms. Omelettes are the opposite. You want a firm (but not thick) skin to contain the soft eggs inside. So they’re cooked at a high heat very quickly with near constant stirring in order to create a thin but colorless skin. (The word “omelette” actually comes from the latin lamella which means “thin plate”).
There are different types of omelettes.
American Omelette: whisked eggs cooked in a pan, with fillings added on top (vegetables, meats, and way too much cheese) and then the cooked egg base folded over the top. Typically a bit brown (read: overcooked).
Frittata: Filings cooked in a pan into which whisked eggs are poured to fill in at a 50/50 ratio, and finished in the oven.
French: see below…
The French Omelette in my opinion is the one to master. Not only does it taste the best, but it takes the most skill and is the least forgiving to error. It’s why chefs used to be evaluated by their ability to make a French omelette. It’s the ultimate test of manipulating heat with control, finesse, and accuracy.
Your goal here is a thin, colorless outer layer of lightly set eggs that, when rolled or folded, contain soft/curdy scrambled eggs inside.
Below is an outline of how we were taught to make a French omelette in class. But let me be very clear… I’m no expert. I was pleasantly surprised to have largely succeeded on my first try in class, but have yet to replicate it either on subsequent attempts in class, let alone at home.
This is the kind of thing you’ll need to practice again and again. The result is either perfect, or wrong. There’s no fixing it when things go sideways. It’s either live with the result, or start again.
Process:
First assemble your mise en place. That means having anything you expect to put inside the omelette or use to cook it in arms reach. Typically that’s shredded cheese and minced herbs. Any vegetables should be cooked beforehand and ready to add immediately. (Note: the vast bulk of a French omelette should be the egg, so keep your ratio of filling to egg low.) Once you start cooking, things will happen fast, so you’re going to want everything at the ready.
Process:
Whisk 2 - 3 eggs with a pinch of salt until they are completely combined. I mean completely. There should be no distinction between egg and white, and the mixture should be a bit frothy and bubbly on top. Figure about 2-3 minutes of continuous whisking (really).
Put a tab of butter in a cold 6 - 8 inch nonstick pan and turn the heat on to high. (If your home stove is slow to heat up, you can experiment with heating the pan first).
The butter will first melt, and then begin to froth. These bubbles are the result of water evaporating out of the butter. Wait until no new bubbles are formed (it’s ok for old bubbles to remain) and then pour in the egg mixture.
Using a rubber spatula, immediately start stirring the eggs, starting around the edge of the pan in a circle, then push through the center when the spatula meets where you started. Repeat.
As the eggs start to form curds, continue the stirring process and also shake the bottom of the pad a bit to keep things loose and spread across the base of the pan. Lift the pan off the heat if necessary. But keep things moving.
You’re looking for the eggs to form small, soft, moist curds, but no loose liquid. Think glistening but not wet. Then turn off the heat, stop stirring and add your filling.
Now, tip the pan to one side, and using gravity as an aid, use the spatula to roll the top edge of the egg over the middle of the pan, over the filling. Then roll again over to the bottom edge of the egg and again over onto a plate.
Done right, there will be no color on the egg at all (ie: no browning from the heat). The outside of the omelette will be perfectly smooth and intact, just firm enough to contain the creamy interior. Once on the plate, sprinkle with chopped herbs. (If you want to be really slick, first rub the top of the omelette with a little butter to create a glistening glaze).
The whole process will take maybe 2 minutes, and the margin of error between perfectly cooked and overdone is a matter of seconds. You will likely not get it right the first time, or the next. But hey… if the result is not a perfect French omelette you still get to eat pretty good scrambled eggs.
See below for my attempt. Or put more accurately, the best of the three attempts that I filmed (and it still fell short of the goal). If you look closely, you’ll see the outer skin is kind of wrinkly, not smooth like it was in class.
I’ve since bought a huge carton of cheap eggs (as well as a new non-stick pan and rubber spatula… because clearly it’s the equipment’s fault) and plan to practice a few each day until I’m getting it right on around ever other attempt.
Have fun!