15 April Monday

The time was seven twenty three. The place, my kitchen. The food, a spinach, bacon, cheese quiche and a blueberry cobbler. A quick improvised dinner made from ingredients I had in the fridge.

First, a pie crust is easy to perfect and easy to make. It improves many things, and I am indebted to Erin McDowell for the formula for pie dough that I have adopted for myself and have memorized. I won’t share it here, because it is hers and she should get any credit, financial or symbolic, that she is due. I can only tell you this, that it works out beautifully every time. You know that.

Quiche thoughts:

Parbake the crust, roll it out only to fit the pan plus a little bit extra to make the rim. A quiche is a savory custard and thus should have more milk and cream than eggs. Eggs are there to bind. Do not brown the top except for a tiny bit maybe. The center should wobble when you take it from the oven. Just like a sweet custard pie. Parbaking means the crust will be brown and crisp all the way around, whereas the custard will still be smooth and silky, not rubbery over scrambled eggy.

I haven’t made a quiche since I lived in Atlanta. One day, I made this very dish, minus the spinach, and attempted to serve it to a southern friend, who announced “Real men don’t eat quiche”. Now, I don’ t know about you, but it seems to me that not only would real men eat quiche, real men would be particularly drawn to quiche. Now, what is a real man? I don’t know. But, I know what a real quiche is. It’s eggs! It’s bacon! It’s cheese! It’s buttery salty, crusty, crust. What is there for a man, a real man, not to love? Real men eat bacon and eggs every day, here they are in one, cheesy crust to eat right out of hand.

Somehow, this poor young man had been shamed. Someone once, and I assume this person was equally misguided, told him that men don’t eat quiche. Have you ever heard something so inexplicably random? Real gals don’t wear black socks on days that end with the number two! If you do, you’re hell bound, lady! Or maybe you’re just not real.

Anyway, I served my quiche as a registered voter, a real American. I served my quiche without pride or shame. This is a little night music. A wonderful and simple done in a moment food that ticks every box. Real men eat quiche. Other men? What do they eat?

Cream biscuits, plopped on top of blueberries macerated in sugar and lemon juice. Sprinkled with brown sugar and cinnamon. Cooked in cast iron. Enough.