is that a corn or flour tortilla

No. I have not re-christened these pages as Mexcookriate.

The editorial policy here is to avoid writing two consecutive essays on the same general topic. But not today. Yesterday I told you what had become of Gary's kumquats (stirring my kumquats). Today I will tell you a tale of Omar's tortilla.

I do not recall when I first tasted tortilla española, one of Spain's classic dishes. I suspect it was at a bay-side restaurant in Sausalito in 1973. What I do remember is that the egg-onion-potato dish quickly became one of my favorites.

The classic version is good. But its strength is in its versatility. I have seen and tasted some interesting combinations at restaurants around the world. Tortilla española is Spain's hash.

Alex at Hawaii purchased several Costco hams for Canadian Thanksgiving. Papa Gallo's had purchased some for its celebratory dinner. I was impressed enough with the taste, I bought one for myself.

I did not have tortilla española in mind when I purchased the ham. But when Omar saw it, he immediately saw the possibility of a good slice of potato-egg pie. All I needed was the potatoes and a bit of imagination. There were certainly enough ingredients in the refrigerator and the pantry to come up with something creative.

Potatoes, like all root vegetables, are a bit problematic for cooks in these parts. They are all subject to root weevils or other boring creatures. Potatoes have the additional weakness of trying to grow in soil that is replete with the same blight that sent the bearer of Irish surnames to The States.

Because of that, I usually buy at least a third more potatoes than I think I will need. Cutting around brown spots inevitably results in a good deal of waste.

This dish is best with wide, thin-sliced potatoes. They form the foundation for the other ingredients --similar to the crust in a quiche. At least, that is the way I like them.

The potatoes in the market here are starch-intensive. To cut the surface starch, I soak the slices in salted water, and then dry them thoroughly. Damp foods never brown properly.

The classic recipe cooks potato and onion together, and the egg mixture is added later. My process is a bit different.

I cook the potatoes in butter and olive oil until they are seconds away from browning. I then set them aside to cook what will be the "pie" filling.

Yesterday, I rummaged around until I found what seemed like a complementary combination of vegetables for the filling. Onion, of course. Ginger. Tomato. Serrano chili. Garlic. And a couple of oyster mushrooms I had purchased to make soup. Plus the ham.

I sautéed the combination until it was just starting to get tender, and set it aside while I arranged the potatoes in the bottom of a large pan to form a crust. I then poured the vegetable mixture over that.

About nine years ago, I was in Barcelona waiting to board a ship for a cruise to France, Italy, Malta, Tunisia, Greece, and Croatia. It seemed as if half of the tourists in the world were on the Ramblas that day. There was more squeezing through crowds than rambling.

In all of that mayhem, I ran into an acquaintance from university. Andy and I had not seen one another for almost forty years. Even though time had had its way with both of us, we recognized one another -- after that momentary I-should-know-him-but-from-where pause.

We both had some time, so we decided to stop at a tapas bar and catch up on our lives. Andy took a look at the tortilla menu and said: "Arugula. That sounds interesting for a tortilla." We both ordered a slice by its menu number.

What arrived at our table did not contain a hint of green. There were potatoes and onion and egg, as expected, but no visible vegetables. The taste was stunningly good. Whatever was in the tortilla, it had a taste reminiscent of a combination of salmon and squid.

The waiter spoke perfect English, as do most waiters in Barcelona. We asked him what was in the tortilla. "Baby eel," he said, "just as you ordered. Angula"

My misadventure with Andy popped up from my memory bank while I was looking through the refrigerator. By coincidence (or maybe it was the memory trigger), I had purchased a bag of arugula when I was at Hawaii the day before. I decided to add a thick layer over the top of the vegetable mixture.

There were extra potatoes. So, I created a partial crust on top of the arugula.

What holds the whole concoction together is the egg mixture. Yesterday, it was a dozen eggs whisked together with a generous measure of tarragon. Herbs and eggs are a natural combination. However, for me, other than marjoram, there is no better herb to add to eggs than tarragon. I poured the egg mixture over the contents of my skillet.

A classic tortilla is cooked in a skillet until done on the bottom. It is then flipped to cook the top. That method would not work with what I had constructed. It was too large and the ingredients too loose to withstand flipping.

Instead, I covered the pan with a lid to let the heat baste the top layer. The trick with this cooking method is to watch how the egg on top cooks to avoid burning or overcooking the potato crust.

Every tortilla I cook is different from any of the others I have cooked. Variety is what attracts me to the dish.

And the outcome? Omar thought it was one of my best tortilla efforts. (Not all of them have been successful for his tongue.) He said he really liked the spinach in it. He had never heard of "arugula."

At least, it was not angula.