One of my earliest and fondest food memories is that of my
grandfather making frittata. It wasn’t the taste of this hearty, Italian omelet
that made such an impression, although that was always wonderful, it was the
excitement surrounding “the flip.”
Traditionally, a frittata is cooked about three-quarters of
the way, flipped over on to a plate, and slid back into the pan to finish
cooking the other side. It’s an hot, slippery exercise fraught with danger, and
more than one of his magnificent creations ended up a broken mess. Come to
think of it, this is where I first learned how to curse in Italian.
The funny thing is, as long as you have a broiler to finish
cooking the top, which he did, you don’t need to flip anything. Just pop it in
for a few minutes to firm up the eggs, and brown the cheese, and you’re ready
to eat. So, why did he insist on the always risky flip-n-slid?