Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Queen of Culture... Queen of Quiche

The age of the quiche seems long gone. It has been replaced by frittatas, stratas, tarts, and other Italianate interpretations of something that is painfully French. But I - as amoro-Italian as I am - will never give up the peaceful balancing of textures and flowering couplings of flavors brought to us by the crusty and savory pie.

Thick and thin quiche has been with me through thick and thin. Not those measly, frozen Costco hors d'oeuvres that likely contain narcotic ingredients, that hold their place next to Little Smokies - no, not those, but the ones forged by loving and calloused hands of the old world. My memories are often blurred by foggy Parisian atmospheres and billowing cigarette smoke - but I can distinctly remember this eggy beacon, yelling to me among chevre chaud and soup a l'oignon in crowded lunch hours at French cafes.

One instance in particular summarizes all my quiche memories. I had climbed the steps of Montmartre and, like a Bohemian mecca, artists easles, cobblestones and berets jutted from the horizon as I took the last few steps. It was December. It was cold. Artists heckled me, asking to draw my picture, and I politely declined, for not even flattery is a match for the search for an espresso and a lunch.

My family and I padded across the square, over each rough stone in a number of alleyways, in order to avoid a tourist-heavy cafe. We stumbled into what looked like an old auberge, and our stomachs worked in tandem with our noses, telling us to stop the search.

And there the flowery prose ends. I had a cappucino. Frothy and strong. And a piece of quiche lorraine. Bacony, eggy, salty, crusty, smooth, spongy. In my mouth.

This is no quiche lorraine, but its my own mustering of simple ingredients - and thats really what a quiche is all about. Something that will dance nicely in your mouth and fill you up, recalling a memory or two while it does its job. Use whatever you'd like in this recipe, but try not to stray from these ideas: only 1 cheese, egg, vegetable, herb, dairy. Replace the vegetable with meat if wanting to make it non-vegetarian. The key is not to overdo it - 2 or 3 flavors at once is the goal. And, much to many people's surprise, the filling of a quiche should be primarily milk or cream - not egg. It's not a crusted omelette, people! Its a custard tart.

Have fun!

Quiche au chevre, oignons, et herbes de provence
Quiche with goat cheese, carmelized onions, and herbs de provence

1 9 inch pie crust (you could buy one, or, better yet, make one)

1 small sweet onion

2 teaspoons herbes de provence (more or less if you'd like)

4 organic eggs

¾ cup low-fat milk

¼ cup Greek style plain yogurt

¼ log soft goat cheese

¼ cup (or to taste) grated parmesan cheese

olive oil, salt, pepper

Preheat oven to 375. Roll out pie crust and fit into deep 9-inch pie dish. Prick the bottom all over with a fork.

Slice the onion thinly, in long strips. Heat a little bit of olive oil (just a little!) in a sauté-pan over very high heat and add the sliced onions. Season with salt and pepper. Stir occasionally to make sure they do not brown too much. When they are very soft, sweet, and brown yet still firm, turn off the heat and pour them into the pie crust. Let cool slightly.

Meanwhile, whisk the milk, yogurt, eggs, and herbs together until very smooth. Season with salt and pepper.

Crumble the goat cheese over the cooled onions in the tart shell, then sprinkle on the Parmesan (you may want to add more or less – too much will interfere with the goat cheese; its primary purpose is for a slight nuttiness and saltiness). Pour the egg mixture into the shell. Bake for exactly 30 minutes (it should be mostly set and lightly browned on the edges). Let cool slightly and serve warm with roasted vegetables or a simple green salad.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Bonjour et Grosse Bisoux!

Hello all -

I write to you after a delicious baking feat - organic chocolate chip cookies, from my oven to my mouth. The residual smell of these seems to mingle quite nicely with my current listening, Bach's English suite in G minor for keyboard. Why hippie cookies and stuffy music complement each other, I do not know, but I'm choosing not to question this.

That should tell you something about myself. I am a music major in voice performance, obsessed in every way shape and form, since I left the womb. I could write entries and entries about the different pieces I've studied, or my favorite components of theory, or what classical singers I prefer, but that would be heinously boring for most people. So I come to you with my second passion.

Food.

Who doesn't like food? I mean, we need it in order to NOT DIE. So we might as well enjoy it. And I enjoy it more than most people I know, perhaps to an unusual degree. I will quote my mother in a tender home video from when I was 18 months old:

"True to my child's character, Kaley ate an entire chicken breast and thigh. And then it was 'more chicken mommy!!'"

Maybe food and music are somehow intertwined in my weird brain chemistry - both are arts of sense, developments of basic human instinct that are, in many ways, entirely self-obsessed. So maybe I'm not intelligent or talented at all, just obsessed with my senses. Who knows.

So, I cook, and I eat. And I consider myself a pioneer of sorts with the way I rip up my pantry. Who knew that sauteed raisins tasted marvelous with Irish cheddar?

Which brings me to my "point of view", the reason I believe I need to rub all of this in the Internet's face. Most people who discover these things about food pursue it, trying culinary school, or business, or some way of inventing new food for the world as a career. Well, I tried that. This summer I cooked at a popular, high-end Seattle Italian trattoria, an institution in this city, and for the most part it was a definite positive experience. But me - an artist, a solider of expression - well, food for me is most enjoyed in lavish prose accompanied by some lovely Bach or Dvorak, not by screaming angry Italian men and moody waiters and tickets and dishes and bleach rags and metal tongs and STRESS. Unfortunately, the production end of the food industry is not for me. But the artistic end can be.

And that is why I write this blog as the Queen of Culture, in all its forms. I will write primarily about my experiences with food, but included in this is inevitably my rich life experience with travel, art, music, and theater. For, as I learned as a child in France (don't worry, you will be hearing much about that) - food is really a LIFE pleasure that deserves the utmost respect and leisure. I'm the kind of cook that wants to see the people eat. That wants to talk with them, to play them some music, to be human with them.


Bon appetit!