Yesterday I decided to make a quiche for dinner. (This choice had something to do with the fact that our dozen hens have been in over-drive and each are currently laying what seems like about two eggs a day.)
I haven't made a quiche for a while and decided to try out a new recipe.
We wanted to eat about 5:30 so I started preparations in plenty of time (I thought) at 4:15. I don't know what time I actually put the quiche in the oven, but I do know it seemed like it took a long time to get the crust ready. (And this despite the fact that I didn't even have to make the crust from scratch but rather used one of my pre-made pie crust balls from the freezer.)
The recipe called for pre-baking the crust so I did that while frying up some bacon and crumbling it, sauteing onions in the bacon drippings, and mixing up the egg, milk and cheese for the filling.
As I was ready to slide the quiche into the oven, I checked the recipe and was surprised to see it took 50 minutes to bake. Hmmm. Well, I should have read the instructions more carefully . . . guess it has been a long time since I've made a quiche.
Okay, into the oven to bake until knife inserted in center comes out clean. Tested after 50 minutes and it wasn't anywhere near done. Set timer for another 8 minutes. Nope, still not done. I ended up baking the darn thing for 25 minutes longer than the specified 50 minutes before I dared call it done.
Then it needed to sit for 10 minutes before cutting.
Bottom line, husband was very patient, I was not. I diddled with that darn dish from 4:15 until we were sitting down to eat at 6:25. By that time, it wouldn't have tasted good to me if . . . if . . . if Martha Stewart had come by and prepared it herself. (Well, that's probably not true. Have you ever noticed that by the time you get through with all the cooking, sauteing, chopping, mixing, handling and preparing of food, you're sick of it, and it has absolutely no flavor or appeal to you? Happens to me all the time. Talk about being tired of your own cooking. A mediocre meal prepared by SOMEONE ELSE would taste ten times better!)
The dinner was not a failure. I guess. Husband said it was really good and ate two big slices. I grumped and grumbled most of the way through the meal.
Even though I may have used up four of our lovely, fresh eggs by choosing to make the dinner I did last night, I don't think I'll be making a quiche again anytime soon. But I may try to wangle a night out at our favorite mom and pop restaurant in the near future.