Just as countries have regional accents and variations in the national language that remain impenetrable to those from outside (I still find it hard to believe that when I went to University for the first time in 1990, the term ‘bap’ for a particular kind of breadroll was unknown to some friends, and as with all regions, the Leicester accent contains a number of words and terms that sound odd, if not rude, to those not in the know), all families have their own language too. It is a language built on shared experiences, phrases that meant something once but out of context are meaningful only to those who share the memory, in-jokes and references that exclude outsiders as much as they bind together those within that bond. The mis-pronunciations and verbal manglings of young children are, I would guess, a rich source of family-langauage. When learning to speak, our daughter once pronounced at dinner, “I love omblettes”. As a result, this humble, classic French bistro vegetarian offering, will always be known as an omblette in our house.
For the kids: 1 egg each, each beaten egg mixed with a dash of sparkling water, with cheese in the middle.
For the adults, 2 eggs each, dash of sparkling water, mixed herbs stirred into the egg and seasoned. Filled with diced onion and aubergine fried until soft, thyme and cheese.
Served, again in classic bistro style, with salad and chips.
A Year at the Stove 