Encore une histoire du temps de notre premier petit resto situ\u00e9 juste en face d\u2019un gros immeuble en construction. Voil\u00e0 donc qu\u2019un beau matin, le patron du dixi\u00e8me \u00e9tage atterrit sur notre perron. Et notre serveuse plut\u00f4t d\u00e9gourdie de sursauter en apercevant le gaillard \u00e0 cheval sur le premier tabouret de son comptoir. Poids plume et teint poudreux, l\u2019homme bouge \u00e9trangement sa crini\u00e8re fadasse en essayant de lire les gribouillis d\u2019une pancarte. Il cherche une omelette et lorsqu\u2019il ouvre sa bouche pour la demander, sa voix est d\u2019une telle douceur que notre Marie avale quelques h\u00e9sitations avant de lui r\u00e9pondre.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u00a0On a trois sortes d\u2019omelettes, monsieur. Pis, ne cherchez pas, j\u2019ai encore oubli\u00e9 d\u2019apporter les journaux du matin.
\n\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0Au fromage avec des patates r\u00f4ties\u00a0\u00bb se r\u00e9signe \u00e0 dire le client. \u00ab\u00a0Et avec un chocolat chaud parce que je n\u2019ai pas besoin de trembler lorsque je marche sur la poutre du dixi\u00e8me \u00e9tage.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
Et voil\u00e0 que notre impr\u00e9visible Marie s\u2019entiche imm\u00e9diatement de ce cowboy de la construction. Elle lui rapporte les frasques de ses comparses \u00e9lectriciens et, en cachette de moi, lui raconte les histoires croustillantes des pompiers, toujours pr\u00eate qu\u2019elle est \u00e0 allumer un sourire sur un nouveau visage.<\/p>\n
Du jour au lendemain, Antoine et sa troupe de ma\u00e7ons deviennent des clients r\u00e9guliers de la pause de dix heures et demie. Ils s\u2019installent \u00e0 la grande table ronde du devant, calmes et dociles comme des gars habitu\u00e9s \u00e0 la ma\u00eetrise des hauteurs. Je les observe du fond de ma cuisine. Presque silencieux, ils ressemblent \u00e0 de gros oiseaux agripp\u00e9s sagement au parapet d\u2019une corniche. Et puis, un certain samedi apr\u00e8s-midi, vers 14\u00a0h, Antoine rapplique au comptoir et me parle pour la premi\u00e8re fois. Il doit faire des heures suppl\u00e9mentaires, car le contrema\u00eetre de l\u2019\u00e9difice de Laduco a remarqu\u00e9 une d\u00e9pense inhabituelle concernant des feuilles d\u2019amiante dans les cages d\u2019ascenseurs. Antoine a pass\u00e9 toute la matin\u00e9e \u00e0 lui r\u00e9citer les ant\u00e9c\u00e9dents de ses hommes en l\u2019assurant de l\u2019int\u00e9grit\u00e9 d\u2019une \u00e9quipe avec laquelle il travaille depuis huit ans.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u00a0Toi, madame Cora, accuses-tu ta serveuse lorsqu\u2019il manque de la farine pour ta p\u00e2te \u00e0 cr\u00eapes? Faut pas exag\u00e9rer sur le pain b\u00e9ni!<\/p>\n
Et l\u2019homme d\u00e9terre devant moi une soudaine vigueur entrem\u00eal\u00e9e d\u2019agressivit\u00e9 et de droits bafou\u00e9s. Je l\u2019\u00e9coute en pensant qu\u2019heureusement le resto est d\u00e9sert, probablement aussi vide que le ventre du cowboy qui demande maintenant une omelette. Je m\u2019affaire pendant que l\u2019homme me raconte quelques fragments de sa vie, combien il appr\u00e9cie ses compagnons de travail, sa maison de banlieue et son passe-temps favori qu\u2019il me demande de deviner. Voil\u00e0 que j\u2019h\u00e9site \u00e0 r\u00e9pondre.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u00a0Moi madame, je suis comme vous, j\u2019adore faire la cuisine.<\/p>\n
Puis l\u2019ouvrier commence \u00e0 d\u00e9biter la recette de son chef-d\u2019\u0153uvre le plus r\u00e9ussi.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0Je ramasse tout ce qu\u2019il y a dans le frigo : jambon, bacon, des saucisses que je coupe en rondelles et m\u00eame du \u201cbalon\u00e9\u201d lorsque ma femme accepte d\u2019en acheter. Des oignons, des morceaux de tomates, du piment, de la cr\u00e8me et du fromage pour le r\u00e2per sur le dessus de l\u2019omelette que je vais servir dans la plus grande assiette du buffet. Je casse, madame, quatre ou cinq gros \u0153ufs dans le bol \u00e0 salade et je les brasse vigoureusement. J\u2019y ajoute les viandes que j\u2019ai coup\u00e9es en fines lamelles et je fais sauter le tout dans la po\u00eale avec les morceaux de l\u00e9gumes. J\u2019ajoute la cr\u00e8me, du poivre, parce que je ne mange rien sans poivrer, et je verse tout \u00e7a dans la grosse po\u00eale en fonte de feu la grand-m\u00e8re Josiane. Et j\u2019attends, le temps de remplir le percolateur et de faire sept \u00e0 huit toasts. Puis j\u2019appelle ma femme pour qu\u2019elle sorte du lit. Et on mange, madame Cora, avec tout le respect que je porte \u00e0 votre expertise, la meilleure omelette au monde. Ah! J\u2019oubliais! Il m\u2019arrive d\u2019ajouter des feuilles d\u2019\u00e9pinards frais lorsque ma Carmela les a pas toutes bouff\u00e9es avec sa maudite di\u00e8te d\u2019Hollywood. Elle ne partira jamais tourner des films pour autant. Mais le samedi, c\u2019est garanti qu\u2019elle triche. Elle ne peut pas r\u00e9sister \u00e0 mon omelette. Et je vous jure, madame, que si vous faisiez cette omelette dans votre restaurant, les gars se rouleraient \u00e0 terre. C\u2019est \u00e0 vous de d\u00e9cider.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
L\u2019homme dans sa fougue culinaire n\u2019a pas r\u00e9alis\u00e9 qu\u2019\u00e0 mesure qu\u2019il \u00e9num\u00e9rait les ingr\u00e9dients, moi, derri\u00e8re le comptoir, je les ajoutais dans un grand bol avec les \u0153ufs, la cr\u00e8me et les feuilles d\u2019\u00e9pinards. Et lorsque j\u2019ai d\u00e9pos\u00e9 la belle omelette devant lui, enti\u00e8rement recouverte de cheddar r\u00e2p\u00e9 extra-fort, l\u2019homme m\u2019a dit qu\u2019il m\u2019aimait parce que je ressemblais \u00e0 sa m\u00e8re qui voulait toujours faire plaisir au monde.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0Appelez-donc votre omelette l\u2019OMELETTE DIX \u00c9TAGES en l\u2019honneur de tous les gars de la ma\u00e7onnerie de Sainte-Marthe qui se sont esquint\u00e9s les os \u00e0 rejointoyer tous les murs du dixi\u00e8me \u00e9tage \u00e0 Laduco.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0Promis, cher Antoine.\u00a0\u00bb Et ceux qui ne connaissent pas notre histoire pourront toujours penser que c\u2019est \u00e0 cause des dix ingr\u00e9dients qui composent l\u2019omelette. Et merci gros comme le ciel pour ta magnifique recette.<\/p>\n
C\u2019est ainsi qu\u2019ont atterri entre mes doigts la plupart des id\u00e9es fabuleuses \u00e0 l\u2019origine des d\u00e9jeuners inscrits \u00e0 notre menu. En \u00e9coutant, en fraternisant et en voulant faire plaisir au monde.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Encore une histoire du temps de notre premier petit resto situ\u00e9 juste […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":6831,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6830","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"Yet another tale from our first tiny restaurant, located in front of a huge building that was under construction at the time.\r\n\r\nOne bright morning, the boss from the 10th<\/sup> floor ended up at our doorstep. And our waitress, who was quite on the ball, perked up when she saw the buckaroo sitting on a stool at the corner of the counter.\u00a0 The featherweight man, with a powdery complexion, moved his dull mane of hair in a strange fashion in an attempt to read the words scribbled on a sign. He was looking for an omelette, and when he opened his mouth to order, his voice was so soft that Marie hesitated several times before answering.\r\n\r\n- \u201cWe have three kinds of omelettes, Sir. And don\u2019t bother looking, I forgot to get the morning papers again.\u201d\r\n\r\n- \u201cWith cheese and roasted potatoes,\u201d the client declared. \u201cAnd with a hot chocolate because I don\u2019t want to be shivering when I walk along the 10th<\/sup> floor beams.\u201d\r\n\r\nOur capricious Marie was immediately besotted with this construction cowboy. Always ready to light up a smile on a newcomer\u2019s face, she entertained him by recounting the escapades of his electrician coworkers, and without me knowing, juicy stories about the firemen.\r\n\r\nFrom one day to the next, Antoine and his crew of bricklayers became regulars at the 10:30 break. They sat at the big round table at the front, calm and pliant, a demeanor well suited to working up high. From my spot at the back of the kitchen, I could observe them, like large birds clinging carefully to the parapet of a cornice, with barely a squawk.\r\n\r\nOne Saturday afternoon around 2 p.m., Antoine showed up at the diner and spoke to me for the very first time. He had to work overtime because the foreman of the Laduco building had noticed a suspicious expense for asbestos sheets in the elevator shafts. Antoine spent the entire morning going over his men\u2019s history and defending his crew\u2019s integrity, whom he had known for 8 years.\r\n\r\n- \u201cMadam Cora, would you accuse your waitress when you don\u2019t have enough flour to make your cr\u00eape batter? That\u2019s just going too far!\u201d\r\n\r\nFrom deep within this man came a sudden combative vigour intensified with the indignation of trampled rights. I listened to him, grateful that at that moment the diner was deserted. As empty, in fact, as the stomach of this cowboy, who was now asking for an omelette. I set to work as the man shared with me a few fragments of his life, how much he appreciated his workmates, his home in the suburbs and his favourite pastime. I was prompted to guess what it was.\r\n\r\nI hesitated, not sure what to say.\r\n\r\n- \u201cMa\u2019am, I\u2019m like you, I love to cook.\u201d\r\n\r\nAnd the worker began to reel off the recipe for his greatest creation.\r\n\r\n- \u201cI grab whatever is in the fridge: ham, bacon, sausages that I slice into rounds, and even baloney when my wife agrees to buy some. Onions, chunks of tomato, pepper, cream and cheese for grating on top of the omelette, which I serve on the biggest plate from the buffet. I crack four or five large eggs in the salad bowl and I whisk them all together. I then add the meat which I\u2019ve cut into slivers and saut\u00e9ed with the vegetables. I add the cream, pepper \u2013 because I don\u2019t eat anything that hasn\u2019t been peppered \u2013 and I pour everything into Grandma Josiane\u2019s big cast iron skillet. Next I wait, while I fill up the coffee pot and make 7 or 8 pieces of toast. Then I call to my wife to get out of bed.\u201d\r\n\r\n- \u201cAnd we eat the best omelette in the world, with all due respect, Madam Cora.\u201d\r\n\r\n- \u201cAh! I forgot, I sometimes add some fresh spinach when my Carmela hasn\u2019t used all of it up for her darn Hollywood diet. It\u2019s not like she\u2019s ever going to make movies. But on Saturdays, you can count on her cheating. She just can\u2019t resist my omelette. And I guarantee you, that if you were to serve this omelette in your restaurant, the guys would be rolling on the floor. Just saying.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe man, lost in his culinary passion, hadn\u2019t noticed that behind the counter, as he listed off the ingredients, I was adding them to a large bowl with the eggs, cream and spinach leaves. When I had placed the beautiful omelette in front of him, smothered in extra-strong cheese, the man was moved enough to shower me with affection, for I reminded him of his mother, who was constantly doing things to bring others happiness.\r\n\r\n- \u201cCall your omelette \u201cOMELETTE DIX \u00c9TAGES\u201d,* in honour of the guys from the Sainte-Marthe masonry, who\u2019ve been working themselves to the bone re-grouting all the walls on the Laduco\u2019s 10th<\/sup> floor.\u201d\r\n\r\n- \u201cI promise, Antoine. And those who don\u2019t know our story will likely think that the name refers to the 10 ingredients in the omelette. Thanks so much for the wonderful recipe.\u201d\r\n\r\nAnd that\u2019s how many of the fabulous ideas for the breakfast dishes featured on our menu found their way into my kitchen. By listening, by getting to know my customers and by wanting to do things that brought them happiness.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764\r\n*This is the omelette\u2019s original French name, which literally translates as \u201c10-story omelette.\u201d<\/em>"},"yoast_head":"\n