Fanny does love her sweet omelettes, but I've yet to find anyone else who does, and I've yet to be converted myself. They just seem so wrong, a complex culinary conundrum, but Fanny keeps right at them. Together we've already made mincemeat versions for Christmas, jam ones for everyday puddings and I may have glossed over an apple one once. Don't shout at me. Something about them just turns my stomach. There, I've said it. I love omelettes, with cheese or mushrooms, maybe an onion or even from time to time a tomato if I'm feeling crazy. But I've never come to the end of a meal and thought 'if only I had a coffee flavoured chocolate omelette to finish off this feast I'd be happy', have you?
Fanny uses chocolate chips in all her chocolate recipes. She says they are an excellent alternative for the housewife to proper chocolate 'couverture' which was only available wholesale when Fanny was writing. She says the proper stuff is somewhat beyond the average housekeeping budget's strained resources at any rate. As a result of this quandary, she embraces the chips, only if they are treated well. Apparently they respond to kindness, are otherwise fairly easy going and merely resent being overheated. This is fatal. If you do, your finished chocolate masterpieces will be sad and grey looking, like those chocolate figurines you've probably seen in south facing, unprotected sweetshop windows during hot weather. It's a very specific comparison. No dilemma really, just be kind.
To avoid any sad and grey complications, Fanny recommends that chocolate chips are softened in a bowl placed in a low oven with the door slightly ajar. Then beat the 'living daylights' out of them. To make it Mocha, Fanny simply adds a tablespoon or two of coffee. The final piece of this puzzling pudding is the omelette itself. No escaping it. While a dry pan is heating on a very low flame, the egg yolks are stirred into the softened mocha choc mix and the egg whites are whipped to a very stiff peak. They are then blended together. It makes a kind of mousse-like concoction, all ready to be cooked. Whether you want to or not.
Fanny adds a walnut of butter to the pan, turns up the heat a fraction and swirls the butter to coat the entire surface. In goes the mixture. Fanny is adamant that you should not touch it until you see big bubbles breaking on the surface. Then, and only then, do you slide a spatula underneath and fold the omelette into thirds like a letter, and out on to a waiting plate. Serve with pride, and a dusting of icing sugar as ever. It is still soft in the middle of course, as with all of Fannys' omelettes, served 'baveuse'. What a treat - a moist, slightly undercooked, puffed up, sweet, chocolatey, eggy omelette. It tastes unmysteriously like it sounds, but does have a brain-teasing consistency somewhere between a swiss roll and mousse. I don't think Fanny needs to worry herself with any more riddles, the enigmatic menfolk won't be returning for seconds, never mind thirds.
I'm linking up this lovely Omelette to the Simply Eggcellent bloggers link up for June hosted by Dom from Belleau Kitchen - it's important to share the weird and wonderful ways of Fanny Cradock...