Before leaving my house for an extended period of time, such as two weeks for a road trip, I typically go through two phases of food consumption:
- I attempt to eat up all the perishable food by mixing ingredients like a drunk college student
- I run out of perishable food and buy dinner at the Chevron for a couple days
Currently, I am in phase one. Phase two generally consists of muffins, corn dogs, Hot Pockets, and other unspeakable tragedies, so we will focus instead on the beautiful thing I created today.
Ingrédients (the little hat on the E denotes a haughty French accent)
- 1 red apple
- 2 yellow butter
- 3 white egg
- 4 pink pastrami
- 5…additifs multicolores: cheese, garlic, onion, salt, pepper
Melt half of the butter (1 tablespoon) in a skillet. Transform the apple into thin slices using magic, and then bathe them in the sizzling butter until brownness occurs.
Remove the apples from the skillet and add the other tablespoon of butter. Beat the shit out of three eggs and add some milk, salt, and pepper. Season the mixture with garlic and onion in powdered form, or go back in time and imagine some instructions for chopping and sauteing fresh garlic and onion. In that case, you would mix the hypothetical alliums with the fried apple slices. Or you wouldn’t; I’m not saying I would care either way. You could just as well set them aside and imagine instructions to add them to the omelette later. I’m not going to micromanage you.
The unit of measure for pastrami is slices or ounces, whichever is bigger. Hexadecasect each slice of pastrami. That word means to cut it into sixteen pieces, and I made it up. As far as Google can tell, this is the first time hexadecasect has been used on the internet. It seems like it should’ve already been a word, given how satisfying it is to cleanly divide something into a four-by-four grid of evenly-sized sections.
Cook the egg potion over low heat until it’s solid most of the way through. There should be a little sliminess on top, but not puddles of it. If craters form, take pictures with your eight-hundred-dollar smartphone, about three inches from the surface of the steaming egg, to make it look a bit like a planet.
Give your egg planet a well-deserved promotion to an omelette by adding the apples, pastrami, and some cheese. Cheddar goes well with apples, but I had some grated Parmesan that was literally begging to be eaten.
So I ate that Parmesan.
I suck at making visually attractive omelettes, so that’s the last picture you get. The rest of the process involves flipping egg and maybe a few angry incantations. No cost or calorie analysis can be provided because I don’t know where some of this food came from.