Mmmm, tripe*

 *not really tripe

I try to believe in nose-to-tail eating, assuming you eat meat, I really do. Liver holds no terrors, and I once contributed to a family effort to dispose of a really quite lung-based lamb stew my dad accidentally ordered in Rome (thinking it was a pork/artichoke job he had previously enjoyed. Coratella is the name you want/want to avoid re lungs. Cucchiarella is the porky, artichokey one which gets the Haunton seal of approval). But in practice, all manner of things don't really work for me. Brains is one (also a Roman speciality, deep fried in chunks with similar-sized cauliflower florets in one of my least favourite lucky dip experiences). Digestive tract is another. Tripe, chitterlings, andouillette? Pleuk.

So why, please, call a decent tomato sauce and eggs dish Tripey Eggs? (Uove trippate. Is Italian. Rachel Roddy's Two Kitchens in this case, I've not caught Kate up with the latest book)

And yet... I cannot deny, the tripe style eggs really taste good. And look quite tripey. 

It's just an omelette in tomato sauce, but if the omelette is good and the sauce is good, no foul? It does admittedly feel a bit like a catalogue of greatest hits of panic-buying past, as the things you definitely need are eggs and a tin of tomatoes. But we're past all those Lockdown 1 shortages, aren't we?

Ahem. 

 Make a tomato sauce like you do. I do the Marcella Hazan way: tin of tomatoes inna pan WITH a big lump of butter WITH half an onion (not chopped, just in there). PLUS a smidge of sugar as these tomatoes weren't great. Bring to boiling, simmer as long as you have. I tend to wash out the tin with water and add that to the pan, so cooking down still leaves you with a loose sauce rather than boiled down entirely. Optional if you're doing it as pasta sauce, as the pasta water will revive it, but handy here. 

Once your sauce is pretty deep and sweet tasting, make an omelette. 2 eggs per person, mixed with some parsley, a spoon of grated parmesan, a little pepper.  Cooked quickly till it's pretty solid, but any last bits of raw egg will be sorted with the next step.

Roll your omelette, and roughly slice it. Contemplate the raw edges of cut egg and realise how much they vaguely look like honeycomb tripe. Dispel this disturbing truth and bung the sliced omelette into the sauce. Stir. Serve, eat.

Onwards. To cocktails and beyond!