Firsts

A few weeks back, Tyla over at Learning to Live Without a Microwave posted about learning to fry an egg, a skill she admits to never having gotten the hang of despite you know, being a food blogger. It was so heartening to read about her foray into the world of fried eggs, especially since my love of them is quite deep. When I went to South America at eighteen and put my veganism on hiatus for the sake of my travels, I ate a fried egg with thin, crisp rounds of flatbread every morning for breakfast. Unsurprisingly, when I gave up veganism for good back in the States about a year later, fried eggs were the first animal-centric dish to slide comfortably back into my diet. This does not mean that learning to make a good fried egg has been easy by any means. To the contrary, I find myself breaking a yolk in the pan more often than I'd like to admit, leaving me with a sad pseudo-scrambled breakfast every now and again. But I too am starting to get the hang of it, and it's nice to know there's a kindred spirit out there who is doing the same.

Tyla's post also made me feel better about another lack of expertise I have in the world of eggs: omelettes. I'll go ahead and say it: everyone should know how to make an omelette. I should know how to make an omelette, and yet in the past year of eating eggs, I had barely even considered the imperative to learn. Until, of course, I was confronted with another foreign food item: stinging nettles. Yep, at work at the farmers market a week or so ago, I saw the bright green leaves with tiny little barbs along their stems for the first time. Curious, I brought a bag of them home with me after asking a few regulars at the stand what on earth they do with the stuff. The common consensus? Use them like you would spinach, and see what happens.

So I thought I'd go for it. I'd never made an omelette before and I'd never had a stinging nettle touch my palate, so my logical conclusion was to try to tackle both culinary firsts at once. I admit my omelette-making skills are not the most enviable, but I don't think I did the worst job in the world. While my omelette wasn't going to win any beauty pageants, the nettles were delightful, richer and more bitter than spinach, and not too frightening in their all their spiny glory. I added some goat's milk feta cheese from Monteillet Fromagerie (our neighbors at the farmers market), giving the whole thing a sharp, salty bite. This may have been my first step into the world of omelettes and nettles, but I'm sure I'll make my return.

STINGING NETTLE AND GOAT'S MILK FETA OMELETTE
I let Mark Bittman's method from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian take the reins on guiding my omelette preparation. 

INGREDIENTS:
2 eggs
Approximately 2 handfuls of stinging nettles (Don't actually touch them with your hands! Tongs are your friend)
2 tablespoons butter
A handful of goat's or sheep's milk feta cheese, crumbled
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1.Bring 4 cups of water to boil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Add nettles and blanch for 2-3 minutes, then transfer to a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking process. Remove the nettles from the ice bath and drain. Tear the nettle leaves from the stems and discard the stems. Wrap nettle leaves in a towel and squeeze out remaining moisture. Set aside.

2. Beat the eggs, salt, and pepper together in a bowl. Have a clean plate ready near the stove.

3. Heat a small nonstick or cast iron skillet over medium-high heat and wait one minute. Add 1 tablespoon butter and swirl around the pan until the foam subsides. If the pan looks a little try, add the other tablespoon. Pour in the egg mixture once the butter has melted and cook, undisturbed, for about 30 seconds. With a rubber spatula, push the edges of the egg toward the center. Tip the pan slightly to allow the uncooked eggs in the center to reach the edges of the pan.






4. Continue this process for about 2 minutes, then add the nettles and feta to down the middle and to one side of the omelette. Cook 1 more minute.

5. Hold the pan at a 45-degree angle so that the half of the omelette with the nettles and cheese slides onto the plate, then gently increase the angle of the pan over the plate, allowing the omelette in the pan to fold over the first half. Serve and enjoy!