Crossroads, No. 2: Preeti Mistry's "Bread Omelet"
A childhood dish rooted in Indian and American experiences
Crossroads is a column where we explore Asian immigrant stories through the lens of food. A challenge immigrants often face in a new environment is not having the access to the same ingredients as they did in the motherland—and one way they end up adapting is by turning what they do have available into familiar dishes that remind them of home. This act of culinary resourcefulness and creativity results in quirky, in-between cuisine that beautifully showcases the experience of growing up with a multicultural identity. We’re not talking fusion cuisine here (as in, stuff that would be served in a restaurant or marketed to the masses) but rather, food that’s simultaneously rooted in tradition and innovation—not to mention, becomes deeply personal to immigrants and their families. You can check out TOD’s archive of past recipes here.
If you missed the last (and really, only first) installment of Crossroads, check out the link below to find my conversation with Soleil Ho from the San Francisco Chronicle about a childhood snack crafted by their Vietnamese immigrant grandmother (hint: it involves Buddig turkey slices and a generous dousing of Maggi seasoning).
Much of what Preeti Mistry, an Oakland-based chef, activist, and host of the Loading Dock Talks podcast, recalls eating growing up was notably vegetarian fare. “In general, our day-to-day dinner was dhar, bhat, rotli, shaak—which literally means dal, rice, whole-wheat flatbread, and any seasonal cooked vegetable,” Preeti says. “It could be a dry sauté or something more saucy—everything from cabbage and potatoes to eggplant and peas to spinach and okra.” With a laugh, they also recall, “My sisters and I always hated okra. We would try to push them off on each other and just eat the potatoes. But now I love them, of course!”
It was a traditionally Gujarati way of eating, but Preeti’s family’s multi-continental journey also made for meals that reflected many diverse foodways. Their mother was born and raised in Mumbai, while their father was born in Uganda to Gujarati Indian immigrants; the two would meet and marry in India while their father was attending medical school, then move to Trinidad & Tobago (where Preeti’s two older sisters were born). After Idi Amin, who seized power in Uganda in a military coup, ordered the expulsion of the country’s Indian population in 1972, Preeti’s extended family fled to the UK and settled in London (where Preeti was born); their parents later moved to reunite with them. Years later, they’d arrive in the United States for more opportunities—first touching Orlando, then Pittsburgh, and eventually landing in Toledo.
In hindsight, Preeti recalls a “delicious” way of eating growing up—but even they admit that they didn’t like Indian food as a child. “I just wanted to feel ‘normal.’ There was some scarring and trauma that came from just wishing I was just like all the other kids,” they say. “In the seventies and eighties, it wasn’t cool to be different. A lot has changed, though. Within the millennial generation, there’s more pride that young people have in their teens and twenties in being from a certain cultural background.”
Though Preeti describes their mother as one who leaned more “traditionalist” with the meals she dished out, she was an ingenious cook who sometimes took to incorporating familiar Indian spices and ingredients into Western favorites to create mash-up dishes that appealed to her children’s tastes. One dish in particular that sticks out was affectionately referred to as the “bread omelet.” Sliced white bread was soaked in an egg-and-milk mixture laced with cumin and masala, along with chopped onions, cilantro, ginger, and a bit of Serrano chili. The spiced, eggy bread was then fried with butter in a skillet until golden brown, and served with ketchup. It’s a riff off the Bombay omelet, a dish commonly enjoyed in Mumbai, but Preeti’s mother had the idea of using those same flavors in a creative spin on savory French toast. Preeti remembers it as a family favorite enjoyed on weekend mornings.
“She was looking for something that we would eat while also putting her imprint on it,” Preeti explains. “I think my mom was thinking, ‘Oh, I’ll turn [Bombay omelet] into French toast for them. But at the time she didn’t know the word for ‘French toast,’ so she called it ‘bread omelet.’ I mean, now she knows it’s French toast—but, you know, this was in the eighties.”
Now, as a culinary professional, Preeti proudly creates and shares recipes that champion the flavors they grew up with—from tikka masala macaroni and cheese to curry leaf ginger Brussels sprouts. Their Indian heritage and American upbringing formed the foundation of their restaurants, the late Juhu Beach Club and Navi Kitchen. Bread omelet still makes an appearance in their meal rotation, of course, albeit slightly dressed up now that they’re an adult.
“I’ve made it with fancier bread and it’s great,” Preeti says. “There’s a really cool guy, Azikiwee, who owns Rize Up Bakery. He and an Indian food writer I know here in the Bay, Leena [Trivedi-Grenier], created a masala sourdough loaf that has stuff like turmeric and curry leaves folded in. He sent it to me and I was, like, ‘I think we should make bread omelet with it.’ It already has all the components, so why not just keep going?”
Recipe courtesy of Preeti Mistry
Serves 4
1/2 cup finely diced yellow onion
1 tablespoon minced ginger
1 tablespoon minced Serrano chili
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1/2 cup roughly chopped cilantro, plus more for garnish
6 large eggs
1/4 cup milk
8 slices bread (see note)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
Ketchup, to taste
Combine the onion, ginger, chili, cumin seeds, salt, cilantro, eggs, and milk in a wide, but deep dish. Whisk until all the ingredients become a homogenous mixture.
Soak bread slices in the egg mixture until they are fully soaked through.
Heat a non-stick skillet or griddle over medium heat.
Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in the skillet, and fry the bread slices until golden brown, about 2 minutes on each side. Repeat with the remaining slices of bread, using 1 tablespoon of butter at a time in between batches.
Serve immediately with ketchup and garnish with some more chopped cilantro.
Note: Though their mother made this recipe with pre-packaged sliced white bread, Preeti says that, these days, they opt for fresh sourdough loaf from a local bakery. Feel free to use either.