He drove off in his old buggy, leaving three little maids watching him
with admiring eyes. We all loved Doctor Chester. "Now, girls," I said,
"we must get our breakfast. We cannot live on air."
Marjorie brought the eggs and milk. Veva cut the bread and picked the
blackberries. I put the pan on to heat for the omelette, and this is the
way we made it:
Three eggs, broken separately and beaten hard--
"In making an omelette,
Children, you see,
The longer you beat it,
The lighter 'twill be,"
hummed Marjorie, add a teaspoonful of milk, and beat up with the eggs;
beat until the very last moment when you pour into the pan, in which you
have dropped a bit of butter, over the hot fire. As soon as it sets,
move the pan to a cooler part of the stove, and slip a knife under the
edge to prevent its sticking to the pan; when it is almost firm in the
middle, slant the pan a little, slip your knife all the way round the
edge to get it free, then tip it over in such a way that it will fold as
it falls on the plate.
You should serve an omelette on a hot plate, and it requires a little
dexterity to learn how to take it out neatly.
Veva exclaimed, "Oh, Milly, you forgot the salt!"
"No," I explained; "French cooks declare that salt should never be mixed
with eggs when they are prepared for omelette. It makes the omelette
tough and leathery. A little salt, however, may be sprinkled upon it
just before it is turned out upon the dish.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48