This morning when I requested a one-egg omelet instead of the larger three-egg version of the same, the cook (who, incidentally, also took my order from behind the counter, served me, and was my cashier) suggested that I consider ordering a two-egg omelet, or a scramble, that it would be difficult to wrap all the goodness that is the quality fillings into a single beaten egg, but, he would try. I offered him broad artistic license to interpret my breakfast order as his set of skills would allow.
While engaged in conversation with my fellow companions (each foodies in their own ways), I carefully watched as he cracked a fresh egg into a stainless steel bowl, whipped it, and poured it out onto the griddle. On a separate quadrant of the grill, he mounded, cubed ham, green peppers, tomato, and cheese. I became distracted in conversation and in short time, this neatly-wrapped little pocket of joy and tastiness was in front of me (don't you just love the diminutive square of American cheese placed on top?:If you don't have a favorite local diner or grill that prepares and serves "real" food--go find one.