I am not sorry for serving this quiche, imperfections and all. Photo by Brendan.
Before I write most things on this blog, I have Brendan give it his editing eye. While I am the journalist in the family, he is the one with more attention to detail. Plus, he’s not a forgetful pregnant woman who leaves things out like commas and car keys locked in the trunk.
For my last post, I ask him, “So? What did you think? Would you change anything?”
He takes a moment to contemplate this question then looks at me. “I would stop apologizing so much,” he answers. “It’s okay if you haven’t blogged in awhile. You don’t have to keep feeling sorry about it.”
I was a little taken back. I didn’t realize I was so guilt-ridden. But then again, deep down, I know this about me. I apologize too much.
I know he was just referring to blogging, but I know my people-pleasing nature. I say, “excuse me” to the absentminded college student who rams her shopping cart into me at the grocery store. Never mind that my 5’11″ pregnant body isn’t a hard one to spot. I flash her a smile to say that I completely understand she didn’t see me standing next to the bright yellow lemons. I start lunch time by telling my kids, “I’m sorry you don’t like your green beans, but they are really good for you. So eat up anyway.” And most criminal of all, I am constantly apologizing for my food.
Does this sound familiar to you? Do you make excuses for the meals you serve?
In Laura Shapiro’s biography of Julia Child, she quotes Child saying,
” . . . I don’t believe in these women who are always apologizing for their food. If it is vile, the cook must grin and bear it, with no word of excuse.” (page 38)
Child became famous for telling cooks and hostesses all around to “never apologize.” While I haven’t practiced what’s she preached in the past, I want to take her advice this year. For 2011, I’m making it a goal to do this very thing. I’m not apologizing for the food that I cook (and I won’t even be sorry I’m making this resolution in the middle of January).
Take my Christmas Quiche for instance. It’s become a tradition these past few years to make it around the holidays. I was inspired by Thomas Keller’s Over The Top Mushroom Quiche that I found in Food & Wine magazine a few years ago, and I’ve been attempting to master this darn recipe for years now.
The quiche is nothing less than extraordinary. The egg custard is so silky and melt-in-your mouth smooth. What makes this divine is that Keller makes his quiche several inches high. It is marvelous to behold and even more glorious to taste. It’s a little bit of heaven for breakfast, even more wonderful for dinner. While my renditions of this recipe have always turned out well, I have never made this quiche without a mini-melt down. I have a love/hate relationship with this oven-baked dish. I love you quiche, because you taste oh-so-rich and divine with your buttery crust and savory goodness. I hate you quiche, because I have never made you without some sort of trouble. The buttery crust, you see, is my downfall.
It requires blind baking and for some reason, it never seems to turn out right for me. There are always cracks, the sides fall down and with it, my heart. Because if the crust doesn’t hold up, then the entire structure is off and all that custardy goodness runs through those tiny cracks. Oh you tiny cracks, how I’ve come to despise you.
I’ve come to the conclusion that my springform pan is too high, and this is why my sides collapse. I think. I haven’t brought myself around to purchasing another pan just to experiment with this theory. (However, this could be a great present for Christmas 2011. Hint, hint loved ones.)
Regardless of the heartache and endless hours in the kitchen (prepare yourself, this recipe takes an extremely long time to bake), I’ve always been rewarded with stomach-happy results. Sure, there might be a burnt custard layer on the bottom where my filling leaked out. Okay, so maybe the crust was a little thick this time. but despite these follies, my family has requested this pain-in-the-butt quiche every year. Every time I serve it, I stumble over my apologies:
“Sorry, I think I put too many leeks in it. Hope it’s not too over powering.”
“I don’t think there’s enough bacon. Well, I hope it still tastes okay.”
“I hate this crust and I’m never making it again. But man, does this taste good. Sorry it’s so ugly.”
But no more! I’m not feeling bad for anything I make. Well, at least not on the outside. Even if I know the rice is a little soggy or the dinner was served cold, I will own it and not apologize. Maybe by the end of next year, I might even master this darn quiche. Hopefully by then, I can have my rendition up for you to try. Until then, you’re welcome to tackle Keller’s quiche here. Maybe you’ll have better luck then me. (If so, please pass on your pointers.)
I won’t even apologize for recommending it.
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
I do the same thing! I can’t help myself. I apologize for apologizing about the food. That quiche sounds lovely. I think I’m going to take that goal on as well. (I never can make a pretty crust. Is it possible? I mean, unless you are Martha Stewart?)
Lindsey, I too suffer from the ugly crust making syndrome. But now I won’t apologize for it!
that’s my favorite julia child quote, “never apologize, never explain.” which is funny because i’m ALWAYS apologizing and explaining the things i cook. maybe i’ll have to make a similar resolution to yours.
and i don’t know if i’ve ever commented on your blog before (if i haven’t, allow me to not apologize for that!) but i’ve read it for quite a while and i find you and your recipes to be delightful!
Dear Jo,
Thank you so much! It’s so nice of you to say hello. Like you, I love that quote too. I think I need to tape it to my fridge today.
Are you freezing your crust after it goes into the springform?
I refrigerate it for a time, but freezing might help. Thanks for suggestion Carina.
Oh how I love you Veeda. I love your food, I love your writing, and I just love you. That’s a lot of love, isn’t it? I like the idea of not apologizing. Of course you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me who barely knows the difference between lettuce and cabbage. To me all of your food is divine because it beats my mac n’ cheese and sandwich duo. If I had the money I’d hire you as my personal chef! And I would never accept an apology because it would never be needed:)
Hey Veeda. I’ve never tried that crust recipe (it sounds daunting!!), but I have a standy-by quiche crust that I love. It is sooooo good. I could seriously eat the dough raw, or just bake all of the crust and eat it minus any filling! Here’s a link if you want to give it a look: http://luluthebaker.blogspot.com/2009/03/mini-quiche.html
Melissa –you are awesome. Thanks for this recipe, I’ll have to give it a try. Thank you.
I loved this post. I do the same thing but not only with my cooking but the presents that I buy for my family. I watched a painful and boring video of a Christmas morning at our house and every time someone goes to open a present you hear my voice off camera making a disclaimer about why I bought it and how they can take it back. It was humiliating to listen to myself. lol Thanks for sharing. Really enjoy your blog
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