Monday, September 28, 2009

Traumatized by a Quiche; Or, The Redemptress of Quiche


When I was little there were two things that my mother cooked for dinner that would throw me into fits of tears: trout roasted in tin foil and quiche. Once we were all seated at the table and everyone was digging into their dinner, I would sit there. And sit there. And sit there. That was because my dad would not let me leave the table until my dinner was gone. (Mind you, everyone else was long gone and getting ready for bed or something at this point.) Eventually I would cave and eat the fish, but the quiche ... I hated it. No, I loathed it. And then I would hear that if I didn't eat it, it would be back on the table for me in the morning — cold. I never actually had quiche for breakfast, so apparently my dad's threats were futile. Either that or my mom intervened and gave me something else.

I know what you must be thinking, 'What mean and nasty parents you had! I'll bet they also made you sleep in the broom closet under the stairs.' At the time, I would have whole-heartedly agreed with you, and I probably would have even conjured up terrible stories about a nasty old broom closet. However, my parents had seven kids, and that is a lot of mouths to feed. Not to mention the fact that any finicky eaters would be a bonafide pain in the neck. (I wasn't a finicky eater though. I just hated steamed trout and quiche, and justifiably so.) I suppose we should have just been grateful that our mom cooked — and cooked, she did.

Anyway, long story short, I would not touch quiche until I was well-into my 'grown-up' years. And even then it was done with a great deal of trepidation. It is funny looking back, because I'm not sure why I found quiche so revolting to begin with. The only thing I can figure is that my mom fell victim to the ubiquitous can of cream of mushroom soup, and must have used it in this recipe. And really, who didn't use that nasty stuff in the 70s and 80s? But other than that, I'm at a loss.

It was the lovely Clotilde who saved quiche for me. I was thumbing through her cookbook when it was still hot-off-the-press and saw a picture of her Onion and Cumin Quiche. I remember thinking, 'Hmmm, I'll be damned if that doesn't look yummy.' That was over two years ago now, and her quiche has proudly been part of my repertoire ever since. Every time I serve this for a brunch or something, it is one of the first things to go. However, I'm not sure that I will force it on Emilia until she is good and ready. (Although I may be tempted to tell her that if she doesn't eat her gnocchi tonight, it'll be in her high-chair first thing tomorrow! Or something like that anyway.)

This quiche recipe is wonderful and really simple to make. We typically have it for dinner with a green salad and a big bold red wine. However, it is excellent to serve for brunch as well. Even my friend Jane who is allergic to onions (can you imagine such a terrible fate!) had a hard time staying away from it.

Pâte Brisée (Short Pastry)

1 ⅓ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon fine sea salt (I typically use kosher, in case you were wondering)
8 tablespoons (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into a dice
1 large egg, lightly beaten
ice water

The easiest way to make this is in your food processor, however, you can use the 'by hand' method, if preferred. Combine flour, salt, and butter in processor and pulse for 10 seconds or so, until is resembles course meal. Add the egg and process until the dough comes together into a ball. If it seems a bit dry then add your cold water, 1 teaspoon at a time.
Turn the dough out directly onto your plastic wrap and flatten into a disc — not too thin though. I usually keep it at least an inch high. Wrap tightly in plastic and place in the refrigerator for 30 minutes, or up to a day. Pull the dough out about 10 minutes before using and let it warm up a bit. This enables you to roll it out without cracking it all over the place.

Quiche Oignon & Cumin (Onion and Cumin Quiche)

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil, plus more for greasing the pan
2 pounds yellow onions thinly sliced (Clotilde says this is about 6, however, the onions here say it is about 4)
½ teaspoon fine sea salt
3 large eggs
¾ cup light cream
¼ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 teaspoons whole cumin seeds
1 ½ cups freshly grated Comté or Gruyere (about 5 ounces)

Make your Pâte Brisée and refrigerate.

Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a skillet large enough to hold the onions over moderate heat. Add the onions and sprinkle with ¼ teaspoon salt. Stir and then cover, turning the heat down to low. Cook for 30 minutes, stirring from time to time, until translucent. Remove the lid, up the heat to medium-high, and cook for another 5 minutes or so, stirring throughout. The idea here is for most of the liquids to evaporate. (This step can be done a day in advance — a very handy tip.)

Pull out the dough and let stand at room temperature for 10 minutes. Preheat the oven to 350°, and grease a 10 inch ceramic quiche pan. (I always use a metal tart pan because I don't have a ceramic one, maybe I should look into that one day. However, it works perfectly fine.) Roll your dough out on a lightly floured surface into a 12 inch circle. Transfer the dough to the pan and prick the bottom with a fork. Bake for 7 minutes, until lightly golden. Remove and set aside. (**What I do here is put the pan in the freezer with the dough in it for about 5 or 10 minutes before putting it in the oven. Otherwise, the sides always fall down and I want to pull my hair out. Sometimes I even line it with buttered parchment and pie weights to keep the sides up. It works like a charm.)

In a bowl whisk the eggs and cream together. Season with the remaining salt, pepper, and the cumin. Fold in the cheese and onions and then pour it into your tart shell.

Bake for 35 minutes until the top is golden. The center should still be a bit jiggly at this point. Turn the oven off and leave the quiche for another 10 minutes to set up. This can be made in advance and reheated in the oven on 350° for 15 minutes — another very handy tip. (Recipe from: Chocolate & Zucchini, by Clotilde Dusoulier, Broadway Books, 2007.)

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