Above: Failed attempt number 43343 at reproducing my dad’s omelette
This morning, I woke up craving my dad’s Friday omelettes. That has been happening for a while now, where I wake up and try to reproduce his famous “3ejet khababees il jaj”. I never manage to get anywhere near that omelette, though, and I’ve been trying for years. I’ve Googled different recipes, asked people for their own recipes, changed the ingredients around. I never even get remotely close.
Friday mornings were a feast in our home growing up. My dad would wake us up at around 10:30 and make us breakfast, and breakfast was always the same: an omelette. The special thing about my dad’s omelette was that it was a completely random mess of eggs, chips, popcorn, fresh vegetables, cold cuts, leftovers from the fridge, and once even chocolate. It was called “3ejet khababees il jaj”, which roughly translates to “chicken mess omelette”. We were children and we loved it to death.
I miss my dad’s omelette. I miss my dad. I want my dad’s Friday omelette. Every time I make eggs, they taste like crap.