Sometimes even great cooks neglect a recipe, which they make from scratch. If enough time has passed, the dish becomes one that is not attempted, out of fear that the proportions may not be just right. Yesterday I decided it was time for me to step up to the plate and make a quiche, a frequent dinner special during my years in France and one I know our guests would appreciate for breakfast. I located the old recipe in The French Chef cookbook, my Bible in the seventies as a young bride in Paris. I got out local eggs, organic pastry flour, butter, and milk. Then I fried, in olive oil, onions, leeks, and bits of bacon from Trader Joe's, called "lardons" in France. The dough quickly formed in my mixer, then was rolled into a circle which I deposited gingerly in my quiche plate. I spread a cup of gruyere shavings, added the onion mixture and the milk/eggs. Then the quiche was ready for the oven. Look how beautiful it was! (It tasted good, too.)
Sometimes even great cooks neglect a recipe, which they make from scratch. If enough time has passed, the dish becomes one that is not attempted, out of fear that the proportions may not be just right. Yesterday I decided it was time for me to step up to the plate and make a quiche, a frequent dinner special during my years in France and one I know our guests would appreciate for breakfast. I located the old recipe in The French Chef cookbook, my Bible in the seventies as a young bride in Paris. I got out local eggs, organic pastry flour, butter, and milk. Then I fried, in olive oil, onions, leeks, and bits of bacon from Trader Joe's, called "lardons" in France. The dough quickly formed in my mixer, then was rolled into a circle which I deposited gingerly in my quiche plate. I spread a cup of gruyere shavings, added the onion mixture and the milk/eggs. Then the quiche was ready for the oven. Look how beautiful it was! (It tasted good, too.) 
