Monday 29 June 2009

Cold Omelette? B*gger oeuf...

This is very naughty of me but picture the situation. A dear friend has spent the night before her birthday carefully and excellently preparing Spanish tortillas, (half of them plain, half flavoured) for around 200 parent-type people and their happy summer-party offspring. 199 people smile and say "how lovely" and move happily down the queue towards the salad and condiments. One doesn't.

One is unable to be positive. This could be genetic, or it could be linked in with an acutely developed competitive spirit which apparently often seems to materialise within PTAs. (Check The Times this weekend, page something or other) Anyway, if this was indeed the case, then an evening so well-organised by Other People was, no doubt, wince-making to some degree. However, the Spanish tortillas and the accompanying grown-by-the-children salad (now just feel the Sunday Times perfection in that!) were really very good.

I'd like to pretend I had had a hand in making them, but in reality I drank wine and lolled against the kitchen sink and chatted, whisk motionless in hand. No credit here, all credit to A.

What I can do now, perhaps to make up slightly for my uselessness that night, is at least stand up for her culinary creations. They were delicious. Utterly delicious.

What they weren't was a "Cold Omelette".

There are many things I allow to slip by me, blaming a lack of time for what really is apathy. But this one? No. A Spanish Tortilla is not a Cold Omelette. And this Grump had no right to insult my friend by saying it is.

There are similarities. If you scout round the net for a while you will find several reference suggesting the origins of both the omelette and the Spanish Tortilla can be found in ancient Persia. So far, so good. (Some also say China, but for the purpose of simplicity, lets go with Persia, since China can claim pasta and annoy Italy and that's enough to be going on with, surely?)

But the etymology differs straight away. Omelette apparently goes back to the Latin lamella, meaning "flat plate", whereas tortilla derives from torta, meaning "flat cake". See? Different.

And then, an omelette should be cooked in a fine layer, and gently folded over its filling, if indeed a filling is required (for many purists say it isn't). A tortilla has its filling mixed in and is much thicker in texture, being cooked from both sides. And yes, this can also be called a fritatta and I don't know what the difference is, so have decided that this is beside the point.

But there's one more thing. Tortilla sounds good. Tortilla made with feta cheese and freshly picked courgettes and herbs sounds even better. Culinary, enticing and even vaguely romantic, reminiscent of sultry Spain to a Rodriguez soundtrack. Cold Omelette sounds like something you find hoiched up in an Aeroflot toilet after a bad spot of turbulence.

So, although it can take a lot to stir me to protest, especially at so late a time in the evening, this time I DO. They were lovely, fabulous tortillas and it was a darn beastly thing to say in earshot of the person who'd worked so hard to make them.

Madam, what were you thinking?

May your omelettes always be cold.

Just quickly...

"I think Iranian women have become canaries of the mind. If you want to gauge a society and how free it is, you go to its women." Azar Nafisi


You can't escape Iran at the moment and I have always been more than mildly fascinated since a student gave me a book called Imam Khomeini, which I didn't really understand. It wasn't the writing that baffled me so much, but Mehdi's devotion to a figure which to me had always seemed, at best, incomprehensible and, if I am to be more honest, quite scary. It was a book that unearthed far more questions than it answered and I never had the chance to ask my student, who had left it with a beautifully kind note on my desk and skipped back to Shiraz without giving me the chance to ask and ask, (not fair, Mehdi, not fair!)

From the unfinished business of that rather difficult read, I went on to the brilliant Ryszard Kapuscinksi and his Shah of Shahs, and finally to Azar Nafisi where I found myself utterly locked into Reading Lolita in Tehran.

So I had more than a passing interest in this interview I happened upon on Al Jazeera (if you can ever "happen upon" Al Jazeera?) which I think has more clarity than much that has been in the British Press on the subject of late.

Now R is kicking the meningitis, I am finding thought-space to return to my housewifely musing and two of her comments have diverted me especially. The first is quoted above, on how women are the true gauge of the freedom of society. And the second is her suggestion that the Iranian ruling elite is suddenly realising it doesn't have the handle on their people the way it once did, and how the once-repressive-but-now-reformist Mousavi has adjusted to go with it.

How much time does it take to go from "harsh" to "kind", in a political sense? Doesn't it usually happen the other way round? Does that change depend on circumstance, interpretation, hindsight or merely an ability not to be too precious about what you want to be seen as your beliefs?

Anyway, the interview. A great one-coffee read with time left over for pondering. Brief pondering, that's true, but it has been so very hot today.
http://english.aljazeera.net/news/middleeast/2009/06/2009613181040285185.html