I’ve told you before how inventive my mom was about trying new recipes. It wasn’t enough that she tried the recipe, she wanted to perfect it and make it the be all, end all it should be. She used to attend and host luncheons and as a result, she didn’t want to come off as anything but impressive. She would always try the current recipe on dad and I. My finicky baby brother did not join in the taste tests. He ate nothing that wasn’t on his approved list: hot dogs, little pigs, cereal, spaghetti, you get the idea.
I was probably 11 or 12 when I first tasted quiche. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It became my new birthday dinner that very day. There was nothing I didn’t love in each mouthful. Of course, I’ve always loved custard and quiche is basically a savory custard pie. This is probably the creamiest custard you will ever taste.
I realize now the 50’s and 60’s were a totally different era. This is before the Beatles and after WWII, in a sweet time of Americana that encouraged domesticity. Most men had jobs, moms stayed home and took care of the kids and no one locked their doors. Oh well, if you were born in the 70’s or later, you really can’t compute how idyllic my childhood was. Life was good and quiche was a big part of it.
1 9-inch unbaked pie shell, well chilled
1 tablespoon soft butter
12 slices bacon
4 eggs
2 cups heavy cream
¾ teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
¼ pound (1 cup) grated Swiss cheese
1 sliced onion
Pinch each nutmeg, sugar, cayenne pepper
Fry bacon until crisp. Crumble into small pieces. Fry onion in bacon fat. Rub butter over surface of pie shell. Using a beater, combine eggs, cream, salt, sugar and spices just long enough to mix thoroughly. Sprinkle pie shell with bacon, cheese and onions. Pour in cream mixture. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 300 degrees for 40 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.
* from the Recipe Box:
Mom used to make this for my birthday. Loved, loved, loved it. She was so good about trying new recipes. This one seemed so sophisticated and I loved it so.
and remember: If I were to give up sarcasm, that would leave interpretive dance as my only means of communication. Big kiss, Lynn
From the Recipe Box 