Who knew I married a man who likes quiche? He ordered it a few weeks ago at the "ladies who lunch" place to lunch. I've never made a quiche. It's that I-don't-make-what-I-don't-like thing going on. Anyway, I promised him a quiche over the weekend, but we didn't get to it. I left The Gourmet Cookbook open to the two quiche recipes. They were essentially the same. He made Quiche Lorraine.
We were out of eggs and had no bacon, so Ian went to the store last night while I cooked for the couple I cook for: Spaghetti and Organic Prego sauce, a small salad, and toasted bread. I went to the store, too. There's something about grocery stores that I should explore. A feeling of zen washes over me when I'm in the store, pushing my cart. I don't usually feel rushed. I'm happy.
But. The Kroger on Sunset Drive kills me. I'm finally learning it because that's the grocery store closest to where the C's live. Get this: The peanut butter, honey, and jams are not kept with other condiments, in aisle 20-something like logic necessitates. They're on aisle one with breads. The other thing? I searched for Dinty Moore stew up and down the aisles one night. I'm getting to know the men who work in the store. I always call on them for help. I bothered one man and asked him did they not carry Dinty Moore? I looked in the soups. Silly me. The DM is with the canned chili, which I also think should be with soups, but then what do I know? There's something else weird about that store, but I've forgotten it now.
Oh yeah, it's the store's physical layout. I was in a vile mood when I walked through swooshing doors because it was crowded with Shit. Like, do they really need all that Crap in the aisles? All those cardboard displays? Maneuvering in that store is hellish. Dodge this cart and that cart and the unattended child in her/his cart. And there are poles/posts in the middle of aisles! That Kroger is my least favorite grocery store. At least I'm learning my way around it. I didn't ask for help last night. Just waited in line Forever.
When I called to let Ian know I was on my way home, he said "Three more minutes until the quiche comes out." Then I heard the sad tale of how long it took him to make quiche. First was the crust. He said the book wanted him to make one from scratch, but I told him to use the pillsbury pie crust in the fridge; the kind you unroll and go with? Yeah, I've made crust from scratch maybe once.
Then the crust: There were too many steps, really. All the using of beans to cook the empty crust; I have no pie weights. Then he wanted to add cheese to the quiche, but the recipe actually said something about not adding cheese to quiche Lorraine because it would overpower its delicate custard and bacon flavor.
The pie plate he chose was too small, so he poured off the excess filling and cooked it for less time than the recipe called for. The eggs were a little squiggly; not as firm as they should be in a quiche.
But, it was good. Best quiche I've ever had. He may make it again. I'm so proud to say that I married a man who makes quiche and eats it too.