KP: So Yeah, I Know How To Make Really Good Quiche (Here’s How)

Quiche and I, we just get each other. It’s a natural evolution from one of my earliest cooking comfort zones, eggs, which are one of my Dad’s specialties — and so they’re one of mine, too.

But it goes deeper than that: Quiche is not just about eggs. This dish as I’ve interpreted it (and probably bastardized it) lies at the nexus of eggs, the utilitarian meal (could be breakfast/lunch/dinner or all of the above) (I have a tough time with the strictly breakfast-for-breakfast-only foods), and the kitchen sink dish — really, so long as your mix-ins are not rotten and play nicely together, and you chop them up small enough, you can probably stick them in a quiche and it’ll turn out just fine.

In this case, I had a ton of meat from a lovely rotisserie chicken that needed a home. I had plenty of orphaned eggs, left over from different six-count or 12-count packages. I had a fat zucchini that was asking to be utilized, and a pair of red bell peppers that were about to give their death gasp. (I ended up using about half of one. The remainder was too far gone.)

Quiche doesn’t have to be complicated. Here’s why:

Fail -Safe Kitchen Sink Quiche

4 eggs
1. c. milk (of your choice)
1c 1/2 meat of your choice, diced small (if you use something really salty, like bacon or smoked salmon, adjust significantly)
1c 1/2 shredded cheese (your choice)
1c minimum, preferably 1c 1/2 fresh vegetables, diced or thinly sliced. Can be anything: baby broccoli florets, zucchini, bell peppers, onion, … get creative, but keep it basic.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Key no. 1: Prep all vegetables and protein first. This is the longest bit. Mix eggs and milk in a bowl, set aside. Layer dry quiche ingredients into the frozen (slightly thawed is better) pie crust. Pour egg mixture evenly over ingredients.

Key no. 2: Gently, ever so gently, stir/mix ingredients and egg mixture within pie crust so you get a little bit of everything spread out — if you chose a good combination, it might start to look festive, little dots of color, like sprinkled confetti.

Manage to slide liquidy quiche into the oven — whew. You’re almost there. Now all it has to do is bake for 45-60 minutes.

Key no. 3: Do not, absolutely resist, taking the quiche out just because it’s puffed up in the center, it looks like it’s baked, it’s been in the oven for more than 45 minutes and it smells damn good. You’re so wrong.

Let it be … The quiche will continue to puff and continue to brown a deep, golden color around the edges and the whole apartment will continue to smell tantalizing — deal with it.

The point at which the quiche should be taken out and left to rest/cool for at least 10-15 minutes before cutting into it is when it starts to look so golden brown you’re on the verge of worrying it’s going to burn/be overdone. (And, the toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.)

Sprinkle with salt and pepper to your liking, and that’s Fail-Safe Kitchen Sink Quiche.

Friday: Rotisserie Chicken Leftover Pasta Improv

This Murray’s rotisserie free roaming herb chicken that I bought at Fairway Market is something else: The skin is crusted with a coarse lemon pepper blend, the cavity stuffed with fragrant sage, rosemary and whole garlic cloves that imbue the whole bird with seasoned goodness. That’s a whole lot of bliss for $7.99.

Since I had some leftover saffron pepper fettucine from Wednesday, I decided to improv:

After sauteing some sliced red onion, I added to the skillet about 1 cup of cold, leftover noodles, which actually improved in the pan, crisping up a bit on the edges.

Next, I added shredded chicken and chopped flat leaf parsley, and when everything was mostly heated, at the last minute I added two handfuls of fresh spinach leaves.

Once the spinach was wilted, I turned it all out into a bowl, topped with the baked garlic cloves from inside the chicken cavity, drizzled with E.V.O.O. and a little lemon juice, salt and pepper.

And, voila, a quick, balanced, well-seasoned meal, requiring nothing more than a few leftovers in the fridge — fridge scrounging at its best.

Dinner: Spam. (The “Single-Serving Spam and Eggs” Post)

I have a soft spot in my heart for the Spam, it’s true. I love it’s fallout shelter kitsch, and quaint, mid-20th century packaging. I love how the Hawaiian culture has adopted it, and turned it into a breakfast side, a sandwich meat and sushi.

I picked up these “single serving” portions a few months ago from Jack’s 99-cent Store, for when I had a stray Spam craving.

…Well, that hasn’t happened yet, but trying to make something out of not much at all, staring into the fridge, at the eggs, and the onion, and staring at the tomatoes about to turn, I had a vision of an egg dish … that needed a salty protein, like ham. Or, in a pinch, Spam.

Why not? I pan-fried half a slice (a whole “single serving” has something like 60% of your daily allowance of fat), and, mixed with the fried tomatoes, onion, radish and chopped flat-leaf parsley, it was just the right touch. Now, what to do with the second half of my single serving?

Lunch: The Surprising Success of the Salad that Was an Afterthought

I paused, passing the kitchen on my rush out the door this morning, remembered I had some salad greens in there that needed eating, grabbed them, along with a bit of chicken and some onion that needed eating, and ran to work.

At work, I remembered that I had the end of a container of Wakim’s Foods garbanzo salad (which I’ve blogged about before, here and here), and some couscous.

I sensed something Mediterranean-ish transpiring, so I picked up some cubes of feta, marinated artichoke pieces and red onion (forgetting I had onion) and a hot pepper at the corner deli salad bar.

Somehow, all these forgotten elements conspired to make a really excellent salad: chickpeas in a lemon-y, herbal, olive oil dressing, plus rotisserie chicken, feta cheese, sliced onion. I love when an afterthought leads to a revelation.

Dinner: Monday, April 6, 2009

“Making something … out of nothing at all (nothing at all).”

What’s that, terrible Air Supply cover band in my mind? It’s fridge-cleaning night? And a successful one at that*. 

I think the key was to use the toaster oven set to “Broiled” in three stages**. 

between steps 2 and 3

After sufficient cooking, two Dr. Praeger’s broccoli pancakes — the Dr. makes some decent frozen goods — were placed on top of two slices of bread that had been smeared with scallion creme cheese to mask the dryness, add flavor and account for the missing fat in step three, which was to melt*** the last two slices of Jarlsberg reduced fat, deli thin, pre-sliced Swiss cheese****.

The last of my favorite lettuce mix, Earthbound Farm‘s heirloom lettuce leaves, as the ever-diligent side salad, the exceptional Novello olive oil just about to kick the bucket, as well. 

I guess it’s time I go grocery shopping … 

COST: Who the hell knows. In the $5 range.
PREP TIME: Surprisingly long, probably almost 30 minutes between figuring out a strategy and broiling in three phases.  

R.I.P. lettuce mix and key to mysterious asterisks after the jump: