Sue

Ingredients:
1. One and a half large yukon gold potatoes
2. 4 eggs
3. Salt and pepper to taste
4. Pam olive oil spray
5. Chopped onions (as many as you want)
6. Garlic paste (I used about 2 and a half Tbsp)
7. Water (about a cup worth)
8. Parmasean cheese

I sprayed Pam in the frying pan. (set at 400)
Cubed the potatoes.
Threw the potatoes in the frying pan.
Tossed in the garlic paste.
Salted and peppered everything and mixed it up.
After about 8 mins of it cooking, I threw in the cup of water.
Let it cook for about another 8 mins or so.
In the meantime, I broke all 4 eggs and beat them.
Got out a baking dish, sprayed Pam in it.
After the potatoes were through being cooked in the frying pan (not all the way through yet), I scooped everything up and put it into the baking dish.
Poured all the beaten eggs over the potatoes.
Covered the dish in parmasean cheese, and stuck it in the oven at 375 degrees.

It's cooking now, so we'll see how it turns out. I can't wait!


It's been in there about 12 mins or so, and I just opened up the oven door to check it. It smells SO. GOOD.

Edit: It came out SOOOO yummy. @ 375 you gotta leave it in for about 20-25 mins. Top with butter for extra yummy flavor.

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Teg yw edrych tuag adref.

Daniel_

Basicaly that's potatoes Lyonaise.

I think.

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Overhead, the Albatross hangs motionless upon the air,
And deep beneath the rolling waves,
In labyrinths of Coral Caves,
The Echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand;
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little_tippler

cool! this sounds more like an oven tortilla de patatas (spanish). Potatoes Lyonaise would have cream over them I think. Sounds yummy....I'm hungry.

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Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.

Fernando Pessoa, 1918