Quiche or Something Like It

Some days you just have to write about Quiche, especially on those days when you threw some together and it turned out on the plus side of edible.

I cooked some bacon until it was dark and crisp. Did I mention in any of my Greece-capades that there was not one breakfast in any of the places we stayed where the bacon was cooked any more than about half way? To me it looked as if they’d warmed it up until the fat melted and then thrown it in a heat tray in a limp and grease sodden mess. Yuck.

Anyway, I cooked the hell out of some bacon, cooled it on a paper towel and crumbled it up in anticipation of adding it to an omelette. And then suddenly an omelette sounded boring. So I chopped up some red onion, red pepper and green pepper, and sautéed it with a zip lock bag full of frozen spinach which usually ends up in my daily smoothie. Smoothies can get boring too.

Next I beat the hell out of six eggs. I don’t love cooking unless I’m cooking the hell out of things. I also find recipes and the way they’re written boring most of the time, unless they say weird and wonderful things like
– prepare the pan (apparently some pans don’t deal well with surprises)
– sit in the fridge for 30 minutes (this only works if you have a super sized fridge and you’re under 4 feet tall)
– season to taste (no really, you need to be more specific here for us taste impaired cooks and actually mention some spices and seasonings by name)

Anyway, buttered pie plate, beaten eggs, sautéed mixture, sprinkled with the crumbled bacon and shredded cheese (I’m sure it doesn’t matter what kind – pick something you like) into the oven at 350 for 30 minutes. Yes, I was pretty much making this up as I went along and hoping for the best. It’s not that I don’t like a Quiche with a pastry crust but those things aren’t good for you and way too much like work.



Extreme quiche close up.

Extreme quiche close up.

Notice that you are not seeing any of the complicated process leading to this result.  That’s because I don’t like to tempt fate by recording the steps which may lead to colossal failure.  Even with something as relatively simple as crustless Quiche.

I wonder if my cooking skills (or lack of confidence in them) can be blamed on my mother.  We blame our mothers for just about everything, so why not.  She was an excellent cook who could whip up an incredible table full of delicious food for a crowd with very little help.   It would take her longer to tell you how to do something than to just do it herself.  She was forever apologizing for the dishes she made not being better, although we couldn’t imagine how that would be possible.  She never measured anything exactly, using her measuring cups and spoons as guidelines only.  That’s why I don’t have many of her recipes.  The best ones  changed with the ingredients on hand and were never written down.  Leaving her daughters (well this one who never listened anyway) to wing it on their own.

This was really good hot out of the oven with some salsa on the side.  I’m hoping it will be really good cold too, because I may have gone a bit overboard with half a dozen eggs for one person.  Mom also always cooked with leftovers in mind.  Maybe I’m more like her than I know.

Heading for the Darkest Day

It’s officially December when the calendar says day two and the snow starts to fall on everyone’s blog.  But only if they want it to.  I’m told it will turn itself off on the 4th of January and I sincerely wish it would turn itself off in real life too.

We have one blustery wind out there that’s been blowing all night long.  At three fifteen a.m. I dragged myself out of bed to see what the hell was making such a gawd-awful racket in the back yard.  Three big cylindrical metal cans were blowing back and forth across the cement driveway and taking turns crashing into the fence with every strong gust of wind.  So I put on my running shoes and zipped up my coat over my night-gown and went out and picked them all up and put them as quietly as I could in the small space between the fence and the garage.  It would have been really funny if I’d locked myself out of the house, hey?  But I didn’t, and W didn’t even miss a beat sawing logs.  I’m sure he’s the culprit who collected the cans and put them wherever it was that they were able to blow over and wake me up.

Obviously I’m back home.  And back to work where they’re trying to kill me by scheduling me for three days in a row, one day off, three days in a row, one day off, THREE MORE FREAKIN’ DAYS IN A ROW and finally three days off.  Yesterday I spent most of the day baking apple pies because Margaret brought back a whole whack of apples from her BC holiday and shared them with us,  and I decided that would be the best way to use them up and poison my husband all in one fell swoop – with pastry made from white flour, a cancerous chicken egg, vinegar and animal fat;  fruit cooked until all the nutrients are gone and half a cup of deadly white sugar laced with cinnamon.  All those things are extremely bad for you and I’m not going to eat any of it.  Well I don’t know about the cinnamon, but I’m sure someone somewhere can figure out that an overdose of it will give you arthritis or migraines or something sinister like that.

I’m trying to stick to my regime of healthy fruit shake in the morning, dark leafy green salad things for lunch with some kind of protein mixed in, and half the time I’m so full of great nutrients and so tired from work that I don’t bother with dinner and just go straight to bed.  Thus my neglect of this space has been justified.  I’m drinking copious amounts of water.  And taking vitamin supplements.  My sister sent me the book “Never Be Sick Again” by Raymond Francis and it’s rather disturbing how we’re all over fed and under nourished.  Not that we don’t know it, but it’s hard to change all our bad pie habits.

But I have to draw the line at giving up coffee.  Sorry, but right now I can’t do it.  We’re heading for the 21st of December and all that darkness means I have to use some kind of artificial stimulant to stay awake.  Might as well be something that tastes good.

I have to go to WORK!!  Damn.  Going there seriously interferes with my blogging time.  I only came here to point out the lovely snowfall on my blog and got carried away with all the incredibly interesting things I have to blather on about.  I’m sure there will be more as the month progresses and the daylight dwindles and the snow keeps snowing.