March 20, 2009

quel quiche!



So far, our spring break has been packed with eggs, milk, crust, and cheese. Yum! In a span of a scant 5 days, I have made two quiches, both entirely homemade, from the crust to the meaty fillings. And best of all, I’ve made my distinctly non-francophile husband drool and beg for quiches, to the delight of my quarter-French heart.

The fabulous thing about quiche is that not only does it taste stupendous when cooked well, but it’s also a great way to get rid of leftovers. Five days ago, after staring at the tubs of leftovers in our fridge with much consternation, my eyes clapped on a bagful of roast chicken and a bowlful of baked ham from the weekend. Voila! That took care of two of my three favorite quiches: quiche lorraine (ham and swiss) and roast chicken and gouda. (The third, my dear quiche au poireaux, was sadly neglected, as I had no leeks.)

So I’ll divulge these two oh-so-French varieties in the recipes below, but rest assured that you can toss most any vegetable, meat and cheese in a quiche and it will still taste delicious. And feel free to use the prepackaged crust — that little cheat alone makes the entire quiche-prep process a mere 5 minutes.

P.S. Please forgive the hazy amounts listed below… I really measure and cook by feeling more than number. It makes it difficult to nail down recipes.
P.P.S. I know you’re thinking, “Then why do you have a food blog in which you share recipes? Clearly you are too flighty, emotional, and scatterbrained to create trusty recipes.” To this I shall respond: “Who has the food blog? You or me? All right then.”
P.P.P.S. My skills of debate are about as mediocre as my aptitude for precision.

Basic Quiche

1 deep-dish crust
8-9 eggs
Approx. 1 1/2 cups milk (About three hearty glugs)
S&P
A baby sprinkle of nutmeg
Possible fillings: 1 cup each of chopped ham and swiss, 1 1/2 cups sliced leeks, 1/2 cup sautéed onions and 1 1/2 cup cheddar, etcetera

Whisk together the eggs, milk, and spices. Place the fillings in the crust, then pour the egg mixture over the filling. Bake at 350 until the middle is set, about 50 minutes to 1 hour.

March 14, 2009

violet vegetables



I went to the grocery store in an adventurous mood and left with two tomatillos and three potatoes of an extremely abnormal color. When you clean them, the skin is dark indigo and actually shimmers. When you cut them, the flesh looks streaked with red wine. And when you cook them, ah! They arrive in all their shocking, purple glory.

I sliced, boiled, and sautéed them, then sprinkled them with shredded asiago cheese. Daniel and I spent most of our time at the dinner table trying to pin down the very subtle differences between the violet variety and the all-purpose yellow kind. We decided that they’re strangely creamy and bit softer in flavor.

But the greatest discovery is that these babies would make a beautiful mess of mashed potatoes, and nothing could be more delightful than serving our next dinner guests a pile of purple mush with absolutely no explanation. Imagine the awkward small talk!