MY DAY AT THE OMELET STATION AT A LAVISH SUNDAY BRUNCH
Tuesday, June 17th, 2008
…and was it ever lavish. It was at Brasserie 8-1/2, a popular, trendy white tablecloth New York restaurant where the Sunday Brunch doesn’t skimp at all on the buffet offerings or service despite its gentle $29 cost. Sure there was what you’d expect at a fine Sunday brunch: trays of warm crispy bacon and delicious sausages, iced shrimp, smoked salmon with all the fixin’s, all sorts of delicious fresh breads and rolls, eggs scrambled, made-to-order and eggs Benedict. In addition, there was a station where a chef made either sweet or savory crepes to order, something I’d never seen on a buffet before. There was also an enormous array of elegant desserts placed tray-to-tray that filled a bar along the wall that must have stretched 30-feet or more. And, there was me at the omelet station.
My being there – the Guinness World Records “World’s Fastest Omelet Maker” – was promoted locally by the restaurant’s public relations people so I knew that some guests who saw the promotion and came to the brunch expected to see some sort of omelet show. While I didn’t perform specifically for their entertainment, I did – uh – dazzle them by turning-out their made-to-order omelets fast, most in well under a minute. That seemed to be entertaining enough because they all commented on my surprising speed when I handed them their finished omelet. Also, many of my magazine food editor friends showed up with their spouses or other family.
The omelet fillings I used were fairly traditional except for caramelized onions that the restaurant included in their fillings assortment. Oh, how terrific caramelized onions are with just about anything. The cheeses, the veggies and the meats in the omelets paled against the sweetness and flavor of the onions. If only making caramelized onions wasn’t so labor intensive I’d include them in everything I cook.
I was surprised at how many people are still thinking that dietary cholesterol translates into blood cholesterol so they insist on an omelet made with just egg whites. “Gotta’ watch that cholesterol,” they’d say to me with a knowing smile as I slather the pan with butter and their egg white omelet with cheese, then turn the omelet onto their plate full of bacon and buttered muffin. At first I thought I’d ask them why they hadn’t been paying attention to news that vindicated eggs, then educate them with the present dietary thinking. But I didn’t because it was Sunday Brunch time and everyone’s spirits were high. No one was in the mood for an education.
In addition to the restaurant’s guests, some who returned for another omelet (“a one-egger” they’d say), I met many new people that Sunday morning. Guests would chat with me while I sped through their omelets, telling me where in the world they’re visiting from, locals telling me where they live in New York and children asking me to flip their eggs in the air since my publicity mentioned my omelet flipping record. Meanwhile, I made friends with the wonderful restaurant staff and the terrific chef and his team in the kitchen. I made well over a hundred omelets that day and, more importantly, made well over a hundred new friends.

