A couple of weeks ago, I realised I had been making Spanish omelettes wrong (or at least badly) for years. This mini epiphany came when playing Codenames (it’s brilliant, you need it) with a friend whose Spanish boyfriend had heard I liked food. He waxed lyrical about tortilla de patatas the way his gran showed him to make, and then proceeded to show us how it’s done.
The key revelation was small but delicious: about a pint of olive oil.
Yep, it’s basically potato confit. Which, I’m sure is old news to most of you. But (light your pitchforks!) I’d been boiling them first, or occasionally frying them to an exterior crisp. No wonder I could never get that gooey unctuous texture in the middle. Thanks David! You and your gran have massively upped my omelette game.
After tweeting about this over the long weekend, a few folks asked for my Spanish omelette recipe. “Oh, I checked and it’s basically just the Felicity Cloake one”, I said. But y’all wouldn’t be told, and now here I am making another of these. An omelette surplus – how ever will I cope.
So, just for you, Twitter Omelette Fans, just for you, here goes.