Skillet & Sage

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.

Ingredient notes

The ham: three ounces, diced small, from a piece rather than from wafer-thin slices. Read the label against the rule above: a ham that says only "ham" is the driest and the firmest in the pan, and a "ham and water product" will release liquid and go rubbery. Bacon is inside the documented range too — Marranzino's 1954 definition says "chopped ham or bacon" — and if you use it, render it first and cook the vegetables in its fat.

The eggs: six for two people, which is the scale the dish is built at. Beat them only until the yolks and whites are combined and stop: a foamed egg mixture rises in the pan and then collapses into something dry. The Army card adds evaporated milk to its hundred-serving batch, a quart to 155 eggs, which works out to about a teaspoon an egg — enough to notice and not enough to loosen the set. A tablespoon of water or milk in six eggs is the household equivalent and is optional.

The onion and pepper: half a cup of each, diced about a quarter inch. The 1957 card specifies both chopped fine, and the proportion there is twice as much onion as pepper by weight; this recipe uses them equal, which is what the 1954 definition implies and what most Denver counters do. A green bell pepper is the documented one. Red or yellow is sweeter and perfectly good, and neither appears in any of the papers.

What is not in the documents: cheese. Neither the 1936 column, nor Marranzino's 1954 definition, nor the Army's 1957 card has any cheese in it at all, which is worth knowing before you order one in a diner and get a yellow sheet over the top. Add two ounces of grated cheddar if you want it, and understand you are adding it. What is documented, from a man who learned it in 1923 or 1924, is a small chopped sweet pickle — or sweet India relish, which he says some places used instead.

Step by step

  1. Prepare everything before the pan is hot. Dice the ham, the onion and the pepper small and keep them together in one bowl. Break the eggs into another and beat them just to combine, with a pinch of pepper and no salt. An omelet takes four minutes and there is no time to chop anything once it starts.
  2. Cook the ham, onion and pepper in butter. Melt half the butter in a 9 or 10-inch nonstick or well-seasoned pan over medium heat and add the ham, onion and pepper. Cook 6 to 8 minutes, stirring, until the onion is translucent and the pan is dry again. This is the step that decides whether the finished omelet weeps.
  3. Lower the heat and add the rest of the butter. Turn the heat down to medium-low, push the filling into an even layer and add the remaining butter, swirling it so the whole base is greased. The pan should be hot enough to sizzle a drop of egg and not hot enough to colour the butter.
  4. Pour in the eggs and work the edges. Pour the eggs over the filling and leave them 30 seconds, then lift the setting edge with a spatula and tilt the pan so the loose egg runs underneath. Repeat around the pan for 2 to 3 minutes until the top is just moist and the underside, lifted at the edge, is golden rather than brown.
  5. Fold it once. Take the pan off the heat, fold the omelet in half with the spatula, and leave it in the hot pan for 30 seconds to finish on residual heat. If you are adding cheese, it goes on before the fold.
  6. Serve it as an omelet or build the sandwich. Slide it onto a warm plate and cut it in two, or do what the documents describe: cut it to fit and put it between two slices of plain or toasted white bread. If you are making the sandwich, cook the eggs a shade firmer — a soft omelet soaks the bread.
A brown, tough, slightly bitter omelet is a hot pan, and no amount of care with the fold will undo it. Start again on medium-low; the surface should set in two to three minutes, not forty seconds. If liquid pools on the plate, the ham or the vegetables went in wet: next time cook the filling until the pan is visibly dry and, if your ham is a water-added one, blot the dice on paper first. For an omelet that has broken in the fold, stop trying to save the shape — slide it onto the toast in pieces and you have the 1954 sandwich, which is what it was originally anyway. Over-salting is the irreversible one. With ham at 1,380 milligrams of sodium per hundred grams there is no need to salt the eggs at all, and the fix once it is cooked is dilution: another egg scrambled into the broken omelet, or a second slice of unsalted bread around it.

Storage and make-ahead

The filling keeps and the omelet does not. Ham, onion and pepper cooked together hold 3 days refrigerated and reheat in the pan in a minute, which is exactly how a diner line runs the dish; this is the one component worth making in quantity. Cooked egg goes rubbery and sulphurous in the fridge within a day, so do not make omelets ahead.

If you have to hold a cooked one, the Army manual's own note points to the better method for a crowd: the omelet mixture can be baked instead, "1 to 1½ inches deep in greased roasting pans", in "a slow oven (325° F.) for 35 to 45 minutes". A baked egg slab cut in squares survives twenty minutes on a warm plate, which a folded omelet never does. Reheat squares in a 325 °F oven, covered, not in a microwave.

What to serve with it

Toast and coffee, and that is the whole of it. If you want the dish in its original form, the toast is not a side but the container: two slices, plain or toasted, with the omelet cut to fit. Hash browns or fried potatoes alongside are the diner convention and a good one; anything sweet on the plate fights the ham.

The documented accompaniment, from the 1954 letters, is a sweet pickle — either chopped into the filling as the writer was taught in 1923 or 1924, or cut in spears on the side. Hot sauce is not in any of the papers and improves it anyway.

From the recipe box / Colorado

Denver Omelet

Diced ham, onion and green pepper cooked down in butter and set in six eggs over moderate heat — the filling a Denver columnist got out of a chef in 1954 and the Army printed as a sandwich card in 1957, with the quantities worked out for this page.

Prep
10 min
Cook
15 min
Total
25 min
Serves
2
Calories
406 per serving

Ingredients

Scale

Instructions

  1. Dice the ham, onion and pepper small; beat the eggs with the black pepper and the optional milk, and add no salt.
  2. Cook the ham, onion and pepper in half the butter over medium heat 6 to 8 minutes, until the onion is translucent and the pan is dry.
  3. Lower the heat to medium-low, level the filling and swirl in the remaining butter.
  4. Pour in the eggs, wait 30 seconds, then lift the setting edges and tilt the pan for 2 to 3 minutes until the top is just moist.
  5. Fold the omelet once, off the heat, adding cheese first if you are using it, and leave it 30 seconds in the pan.
  6. Serve it cut in two, or between two slices of plain or toasted white bread as the 1954 definition has it.

Nutrition

Fat29 g (13 g saturated)
Sodium800 mg
Protein29 g
Servinghalf the omelet, without the optional cheese
Calories406
Cholesterol610 mg
Carbohydrates6 g (3 g sugar, 1 g fiber)

Nutrition is an estimate calculated from the listed ingredients and is provided as a courtesy, not as dietary advice.

Questions readers ask

Why is it called Denver?

Nobody has ever produced an answer, and Denver's own paper has said so twice in print. In 1936 the house columnist allowed that the sandwich was "probably not invented here" but "attained its full flower and won its name in earlyday Denver", and offered the practical theory: eggs in early Denver "were not always what they should be", and chopped onions covered for them. In 1954 Pasquale Marranzino wrote a whole column under the headline "Why, Oh Why Is There No Statue To Denver Sandwich Inventor?" after a decade of looking, and his readers' best lead was to forward the question to the Poultry and Egg National Board in Chicago. Nothing came back that reached print.

Should there be cheese in it?

Not by the documents. Neither the 1936 column, the 1954 definition from the chef at the Capri, nor the Army's 1957 card contains cheese, and the card's ingredient list is eggs, ham, onions, peppers and salt. Cheese is a later, perfectly good addition. If you want a variation with a date on it, use the one Otho Byers of Bannock Street was taught in 1923 or 1924 and put a small chopped sweet pickle in the filling.

Is it an omelet or a sandwich?

It was a sandwich first, in every document I could open. The Rocky Mountain News discusses a Denver sandwich in 1936 and 1954 and never once calls it an omelet; the Army's 1957 manual files it under sandwich fillings as "WESTERN (DENVER)" and tells the cook to "Cook as omelet". The phrase "denver omelet" does not appear in Colorado's own newspaper archive before 1960, and the earliest pages for it are from 1973. The omelet is the filling, promoted.

Western omelet or Denver omelet?

The same thing, and in 1957 the federal manual put Western first with Denver in brackets. Colorado's own archive is no help in separating them, because almost every early "western sandwich" hit is a business: "Western Sandwich Shops, Inc." was incorporated in Denver on 27 November 1924, with its capital stock and its incorporators listed in the paper. Use whichever name your region uses; the eggs do not care.