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Food and Drink Post: Quiche Me Once and Quiche Me Twice
I’ve always liked quiche as the focal point of a meal, and ever since I acquired, through various nefarious means, a small flock of chickens, and–even in the winter–a seemingly endless supply of eggs, it’s become an even more useful staple of my culinary art.
My basic recipe starts with something called the Keto Caramelized Onion and Gruyere Quiche. Although I love the filling, and regularly make it to spec, TBPC, I’m not at all about the “keto.” My crust is a standard pastry crust, whether one I’ve made (something of which I’m quite capable) or the Pillsbury roll-up kind. I have a friend who layers filo dough in the pie pan and calls it a “quiche crust.” That works too and is quite delicious. Whatever floats your boat. Have at it.
Ah, but not in the way you’re thinking, although I’d love to hear about the most expensive/best/worst meal you’ve ever eaten when you were dining out. Remember that? I do, and I miss it, even though my family’s endeavors in that area rarely approached the exorbitant, the world-class, or even the gourmet. (One startling exception was the lunch that Dad and my siblings enjoyed at 
“The Analytical Engine has no pretensions whatever to originate anything. It can do whatever we know how to order it to perform.”–Augusta Ada King, Countess of Lovelace
So, Ricochetti: What are you doing to eat your way through the CoronApocalypse? Here at Chez She, in the very armpit of Southwestern PA, we’re going big for soup, and have worked our way through beef vegetable, mushroom barley, and (most recently) chicken noodle. We’re too far from town for meal deliveries. I’m trying not to go into town myself if I can avoid it, and, anyway, most of the little places we do like to eat are closed because they’re small businesses and it’s become too complicated and expensive for them to stay open just for take-out.
This post isn’t an update on the final days of Biden vs. Sanders and the Democrat primary nomination process, one which might be settled on Sunday night (if the proposed meet-up actually happens) in one of those ‘push-up contests’ Joe Biden is so fond of taunting his opponents with. (For some reason, unbidden and unwelcome images of 
It’s a chilly morning on the farm this January 17 (there’s a bit of snow), a perfect setting for National Hot Buttered Rum Day! (Who knew?)