Omelet Overlord Wednesday June 28, 2006

Alright, I’m not a big egg person. Actually, I usually yarf after eating eggs. Especially the scrambled egg variety or when they are in some sort of omelet form. It’s not some weird phobia like the Fucking Lobsters, it’s just the combination of grease, yoke and dead chicken embryos that turns my stomach upside down. Which makes it some what ironic that I have become a certified Omelet Overlord, An Omelet Factory, A large order Omelet Chef or what ever it is that Omelet makers are called nowadays?

Long Live the Grill

Because of my involvement in a volunteer program at work, once a month I go down and serve breakfast at the Mustard Seed. The Corporation provides a pretty nice breakfast of hashbrowns, toast, coffee, fruit and most importantly omelets. On the first morning I arrived, an engineer showed me the ancient art of mass quantity omelet production. He showed me the patent liquid yoke pour, the perfect omelet flip and most importantly the art of slicing up 12 omelets on an industrial grill. It was a phenomenal experience and a life altering one at that.

Now, as soon as I arrive at the seed I weasel my way straight to the omelet station, take control of the grill and fire those puppies out. There’s a small element of Hell’s Kitchen involved, but I rarely slam an omelet in a volunteer’s face. (That might not go over too well with people not jocking for a Vegas Restaurant) But with the omelet production technique and some masterful wrist action we can churn out about 120-150 omelets in little less than an hour. That’s almost at Vegas levels, baby!

Anyways, the ridiculously early wake-up call and the lingering smell of liquidized egg in my hair is a small sacrifice for the satisfaction of conquering an industrial sized grill. After about 10 Wednesdays at the seed, I’m starting to really enjoy the smell of liquidized egg and old ham. Plus it feels masculine to dominate a grill and make a day of work slaving in front of the computer far more fulfilling.

So as that cheesy Harvey’s commercial says “Long live the Grill.”

Note: Again, I borrowed this photo from Flickr. At least this time I have a link.

Categories: The-Personnal, The-Inane,

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