The perfect omelette should be light as air, cooked evenly inside, still moist, lightly browned and be a golden yellow colour. To accomplish this some cooks use a shot of mineral water or beer while others beat the yolks and egg whites separately with a whisk. Be that as it may, the word omelette comes from the Old French amelette, meaning something like “thin plate”. And even if the methods of preparation vary, strictly speaking omelettes are made of (at least three) eggs with no flour – because a scrambled egg with flour becomes a pancake, as most Germans know from hard-working Liese in Wilhelm Busch’s popular poem, Pfannkuchen und Salat (“Pancakes and Salad”):

“Three eggs, fresh and without blemish,
And milk and a spoonful of flour,
These she whisks up industriously together
Into an intimate union.”

Although the term “omelette” first appeared in the 15th and 16th centuries, the Romans were already acquainted with how to prepare the “thin plate”. Whether flat, as originally, or rolled up, folded or flapped, the omelette virtually begged to be filled, topped or to be improved in any other way. The recipe of French cooking artist, Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin (with carp roe and fish cakes) and the biscuit omelette from the once famous Hotel Stephanie in Baden-Baden (with fruit or compote and spread with apricot jam) became famous.

It seems that everything that can be eaten has already found its way onto or into an omelette: wafer-thin truffle slices and mussels, chicken liver as well as thin slices of sweetbread, anchovies and asparagus spears, onions, herbs and minced meat for those who like it savoury. And jams, jellies, compotes, sauces, fruit and sugar for the fastidious palate.