You’ll need the following ingredients. (A cooker, frying pan, saucepan lid, bowl, spatula, forks, plates, rubbish bin, bottle of Rioja and TV in the kitchen will also come in handy.)
X + 2 medium-sized potatoes, where X is the number of people who originally said they would be dining with you. Bear in mind that X is a constantly changing variable even as you try to dine. For example, when you begin your omelette, you might be forgiven for thinking that you are cooking for a standard nuclear family of four, but by the time the bleeding thing is on the table, don’t be surprised if the doorbell goes and X suddenly increases to eight. To be on the safe/greedy side, always make way too much. If no scroungers materialise, you can always finish off your work of art at lunch and/or dinner the next day - assuming you hide the leftovers well, that is.
X x 1.5 medium-sized eggs. Or X large ones. Or X x 2 small ones. Just use your nous, OK? As a general rule of thumb, the more eggs you use, the more filling and cholesterol-enhancing the resulting omelette will be.
X/4 large onions. Red onions if you’re feeling experimental. Plain old boring white onions will do if you’re too lazy to go to the greengrocer’s and buy delicious red ones.
X x 100 centilitres of olive oil. But don’t drink it all at once.
X x 100 grains of iodised salt. Don’t ask me why it has to be iodised, that’s just the way things have always been in my household, and there’s no way we’re going to change at this stage of the game, is there? If you’re feeling experimental, try using sugar instead of salt.
Next time: How to make an Anglo-Basque Spanish omelette (Part 2): Yeah, OK, I’ve got all the ingredients, smartypants. What now?!