Bear with me – as telephonists like to say – while I gush for a bit. This has to be the world’s best omelette. I call it Corsican not because it stems from any in-depth research into, or indeed intimate knowledge of, the food of Corsica but because it is the adaptation, from memory, of the best thing I ate there on a holiday now nearly 17 years ago. Also, to be fair, the key ingredient is itself Corsican, brocciu, a soft goat’s whey cheese that’s left to drain and shape in woven baskets; think ricotta with an edge. You sometimes come across this omelette in a sweetened version, with sugar sprinkled along with the mint (a herb that the Corsicans use much more in their cooking than the French) but I like it sharp and savoury. I’m not pretending that you can get brocciu here, but that hasn’t ever stopped me making it: I just use that goat’s cheese – chèvre – that comes in a log and which is incredibly easy to come by. Cut away the soft-kid skin and crumble the white sharp cheese into the eggs in the pan: the salty sharpness contrasts exquisitely with the rich fattiness of the eggs; against which, too, the fresh hit of mint is positively exhilarating, though to tell the truth, I make this just as often (just because it’s easier to keep both chèvre and eggs in the fridge on constant standby) without it.
Think of this more as a lunch or supper dish, although I wouldn’t turn it down at any time of day.
3 eggs
salt and pepper
15g butter
leaves from 3–4 good-sized sprigs fresh mint, shredded
approx. 100g thick slice of a chèvre log
Beat the eggs and season with salt and pepper. Melt the butter in a frying pan approximately 25cm in diameter.
When the butter has melted and is bubbling, throw in most of the shredded mint, saving some for sprinkling on top at the end. When it has sizzled in the butter and become vibrantly green, pour in the beaten eggs and tip the egg around the pan. Crumble the cheese over the omelette and cook, lifting the sides and swilling the pan around to let any runny egg cook in the heat underneath.
When the top of the omelette looks nearly set but still gooey, fold into three lengthways – in other words, fold in two sides, leaving a strip of white-blobbed omelette facing up in a strip in the middle – and slide on to a plate. Sprinkle with the reserved mint and eat.
Serves 1.