A northern variation on Eggs Florentine, inspired by our recent holiday in the Piedmont region of Italy.
It’s almost Bastille Day and I’ve got France on the brain. This simple country omelette is what started my love affair with France and with cooking.
Let me start by putting your minds at ease. I’m not Cruella de Vil and I didn’t slaughter a cute little puppy to make this post.
Over the Easter holidays the kids and I spent a fab few days visiting a friend who once played Thelma to my Louise. Or was it the other way around? In our mid-twenties we drove from Seattle to New Orleans, via Vegas, Grand Canyon and Mexico.
When you hear ‘The Full Monty’ you automatically think of steel workers on stage, ripping off their leathers, right?
Yesterday I was trying to use up the backlog of eggs that has accumulated since we started having them delivered with our milk. The best way I know of to do that is to make a tortilla española.
Immediate apologies if the irreverance of this recipe offends my religious friends. I am aware that orthodox Christians don’t eat meat on Fridays, let alone Good Friday. And Muslims and Jews don’t eat pig meat ever. And Hindus don’t eat any kind of meat ever….
