The regional table / Colorado
Denver Omelet
Denver has been publicly admitting it does not know who invented this since at least 1936, and the admissions are the best documents there are.
The name came to the eggs late, and the newspaper record is exact about it. The Colorado Historic Newspapers Collection sits behind a bot challenge and answers only a real browser; searched in one, "denver omelet" and "denver omelette" return nothing at all before 1960, and the earliest pages I could find for either spelling are from 1973. "Denver sandwich" is much older and mostly a trap. The Georgetown Courier of 1 September 1881 matches because a humorist invents a railway, "the Denver, Sandwich Islands and Australia railroad"; the Rocky Mountain News of 8 June 1895 matches because a line ends on "Denver," and the next begins "SANDWICH CIGARS"; the whole 1930s cluster is a luncheonette, the Denver Sandwich Shop at 1549 Glenarm "next to the Denver Theater", advertised on 28 August 1932 with a chicken dinner for 25 cents. Even "Western Sandwich Shops, Inc." turns out to be a company, filed in the incorporation notices of 27 November 1924. The first page I could verify as the dish is 29 February 1936, in an unsigned column called "Just a Few Notes by The Reporter Who Gets Around", answering a reader who had read that the columnist saw a Denver sandwich on a menu in China: "I understand the Denver sandwich, altho probably not invented here, attained its full flower and won its name in earlyday Denver. It is a combination of fried eggs and chopped onions. In early days, eggs were not always what they should be. But, when you added onions, why, who could tell?"
Eighteen years later the paper was still looking. On 3 January 1954 Pasquale Marranzino ran a column headed "Why, Oh Why Is There No Statue To Denver Sandwich Inventor?", in which he admits he has spent a decade trying "to locate the guy who made his imprint on the world's menus", and that he did not know what went into it until he asked Johnny Obialero, the chef at Sunny Mapelli's new Capri. The definition he got is the recipe below: "The Denver sandwich is composed of two slices of plain or toasted white bread surrounding a sort of omelet of egg, chopped pepper, chopped onion, chopped ham or bacon." The replies are better than the column. On 7 January Jerry Clevenger of Rocky Ford wrote in that he was forwarding the piece to the Poultry and Egg National Board in Chicago, who "may also have some information on the originator". On 12 January Otho E. Byers of 1322 Bannock Street reported that "away back in 1923 or 1924, I was taught to add one small chopped sweet pickle to the ingredients Marranzino lists", that the sweet-pickle version was still being built in 1936 at the old El Patio Restaurant in Salida, and then undercut himself: "it well may be this is not the true recipe." The federal government settled only the order of the names. The Army's TM 10-412-2, Eggs, Cheese and Sandwiches, of June 1957 carries a sandwich-filling card numbered F-35 and titled "WESTERN (DENVER)", listing eggs, cooked ham chopped fine, dry onions chopped fine and fresh sweet peppers chopped fine, with the whole method in one line: "Combine eggs, ham, onions, and peppers. Cook as omelet (see recipe No. D-10 for omelet)." The omelet was the filling first. The quantities below were worked out for this page.
Why this version works
Moderate heat, and judge it by the bottom. The Army's omelet card, No. D-10 in the same 1957 manual, gives the whole technique in two instructions: cook "at moderate heat (350° F.) until bottom is golden brown", then "fold each section over carefully with spatula". Egg is 76.2 percent water and its proteins set between about 145 and 160 °F, so a hot pan browns the outside long before the middle is set and then keeps going until the inside squeezes its water out. Moderate heat, one fold, no colour beyond gold.
The vegetables are nearly all water, so they cook first. The USDA records put raw onion at 89.1 percent water and a green bell pepper at about 94 percent, and none of that water has anywhere to go once it is inside set egg. Six to eight minutes in butter drives off enough of it to concentrate the flavour and to stop the omelet weeping on the plate. The 1936 column had already worked out what the onion is for from the other end — in a town where "eggs were not always what they should be", onions covered for them.
The filling is cooked as an omelet because it began as a sandwich. Both documents describe the same object from the sandwich end: Marranzino's 1954 definition is bread "surrounding a sort of omelet", and the Army's 1957 card files the Denver among sandwich fillings and sends the cook to the omelet card to set it. That is why the ham, onion and pepper are cut small and cooked before the egg goes in rather than being folded into a finished omelet: the mixture had to hold together between two slices of bread. Cut them coarse and the thing falls apart whichever way you serve it.
The ham is the seasoning, and its label tells you how much of it is water. Cured ham runs 1,380 milligrams of sodium per hundred grams against 142 for raw egg, so three ounces of it carries more salt than you would ever add from a cellar. The federal labelling rule at 9 CFR 319.104 also tells you what you are buying, by minimum meat protein-fat-free percentage: 20.5 percent may be called simply ham, 18.5 percent must say "with natural juices", 17.0 percent must say "water added", and anything below that is a "ham and water product" that has to state "X% of weight is added ingredients" on the front. The lower you go down that list, the more water goes into your pan.