Only occasionally do I sincerely cook or bake from the heart. Today was one of those days. Quiche is found ready made in all the grocery stores. All you have to do is buy it, take it home, preheat and throw it in the oven. It always comes out perfect.
So why go to all the trouble of making one myself? Just because I felt like it. After watching "Julie and Julia" I became inspired by Julie's commitment to cooking her way through Julia Child's cookbook within 365 days. I decided I could at least make a quiche from a recipe in the newspaper.
So, armed with a puff pastry sheet, (no ready made pie crust for me!) heavy cream, 4 eggs, crispy bacon, scallions, browned mushrooms and grated parmesan and romano cheese, garlic powder, salt, pepper and thyme, I pre-baked my crust (not entirely successfully), and poured the mix into a rather poofy pie crust after sticking a knife in several places to let some of the air out of it.
Exactly twenty minutes after my husband Dan came home, it was ready.
I watched him take the first bite.
"It's OK," he said.
"I was waiting to see if you died," I said.
It was OK, not runny or watery, just exactly the way a quiche should be.
"Can I have another piece?" Dan asked after a bit.
"Sure," I said.
That was my secret indication that he really liked it. As he sat down with his second helping, I told him not to get to excited about me making quiche every week. It was a hard job!
"It's really not bad," he said.
Not bad is his French for magnifique!
Later when he came over to kiss me goodnight, I told him he should give me two kisses for making him a quiche.
He said, "love isn't material things!"
"No," I replied, "but special things can be made with love!"
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