Frutata. Fruttata? Frittata!
I made this awhile back but reluctant to post about it because I’d been making a shit ton to egg-based foods and I didn’t want the 3 people who read these posts to think that I only have eggs in my fridge. (It’s true, though.) I didn’t use a recipe (SHOCK) and based this off the frittata my mother makes. Like all things, she does it better.
I’ve made this before and one of the lessons I learned is that potatoes don’t cook a quickly as eggs. I love eating potatoes but I fucking hate cooking them. They take forever and they can be temperamental in that half will be cooked and the other half won’t be…it’s just annoying. They’re like adults walking down the sidewalk of big cities – some people walk at quick, acceptable paces and know to get out of the way if they’re gonna stop to check their phones or whatever. The others tend to wander slooooowwwwwwlllllyyyyy and they usually walk in groups. Really, four people shoulder to shoulder on a sidewalk and you’re all walking like an old man with arthritic knees? That’s not ok. Freakin’ slow sidewalk potatoes.
Since my previous forays into frittatas end up with overcooked eggs and raw potatoes, I decided to cook the potatoes separately first and add them to the frittata later in the process. Besides being annoying, potatoes require something I have in very short supply – patience. I want things to cook faster than they do and usually end up pulling things out of the pan before I should. This time, I distracted myself with the internet and let the potatoes cook. Thanks, Internet! You are usually the reason my “rage vein” stands out on my forehead, but you helped me cook these:
After I removed the potatoes from the pan, I sautéed the garlic, peppers, celery, and onions. While this is cooking get your eggs ready. I whisked eggs and milk together and added a little salt and pepper.
When ready, toss the potatoes back in the pan and mix. Add eggs and a little cheese and let it cook.
Whenever my mother makes this she flips the frittata over so both sides cook evenly. She’s really good at it, too. Since she does it, I should do it, too, right?
Herein lies the problem with my flip attempt. I hadn’t taken into account that my mother uses a much smaller pan than I used. So when I went to flip it on to a plate before sliding it back into the pan I discovered that my plates were all too small. I used a cutting board but it sort of sloughed onto the board and then sadly slid back into the pan, leaving a smeary trail of egg as it went. Oops.
Side note – my mother is good at most things and does them like it’s not a big deal. Then I try to replicate what looked so easy for her and I end up covered in gunk and crying while I attempt to beat a fire out with a hand towel. Usually my cat is happily clawing the hell out of me while all this goes on. Apparently the awesomeness gene skipped me.
Once it’s done, throw it on another plate. It’s supposed to be the same shape of the pan (also another way to say “round.”) My frittata was not round. Just like this is supposed to be a mouth and isn’t:
Batman’s most difficult battle is getting his lips to close over those gigantic horse teeth.
This isn’t round:
Serve with some toasted bread and Instagram!
I cannot even tell you how proud I am that my potatoes came out the way they did. If I were to have a child and that child were to grow up to become some sort of gold medal winning Olympic athlete, I wouldn’t be as proud of them as I am of these damn potatoes. I WIN! U S ME! U S ME!