Monthly Archives: May 2011

Easy, Cheesy Tex-Mex Quiche

This crustless quiche is a great throw-together kind of weeknight dinner. Adapted from this recipe (Tasty Kitchen–no surprises there), it’s gooey and wonderful and (best of all) requires minimal effort for the tired cook in the family. Next time there’s a potluck and I’m dragging my feet about cooking, I called upon my husband to remind me to make this quiche and quit my whinin’. Not that there have been any potlucks in my life recently . . . and not that I’ve whined about any of them. It’s just a hypothetical situation, of course.

Ingredients

(Serves 5)

5 eggs
1/2 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
2 TBS melted butter
12 oz small curd cottage cheese
2 cups grated Monterey Jack cheese
1 4.5 oz can chopped green chilies

Preheat the oven to 400 F.

In a medium sized bowl, crack open them there eggs.

Give them a good beating. Anyone seen that Bill Cosby stand-up routine? Let the beatings begin!

It’s all about how children are brain-damaged beings, and it’s darkly funny. All you need to do is read yesterday’s post to confirm that children are, indeed, not exactly a shrine of innocence and purity.

Add the flour . . .

. . . the baking powder . . .

. . . and that golden stream of melted butter.

Beat it all again until well combined.

Grate up a nice slab of Monterey Jack cheese.

Stir the grated cheese, chilies, and cottage cheese into the egg mixture until it’s nice and uniform.

Okay, this doesn’t exactly look delicious. But patience, my friends! I hear it’s a virtue . . . right? Yeah, that rings a bell.

Grease a 9 inch pie plate or spray it down with baking spray . . .

(please don’t tell me what’s in that spray) . . . and pour in the egg mixture.

Bake it for 10 minutes, then turn down the oven temperature to 350 F and continue to bake for 30-35 more minutes, until the sides and top are a golden brown.

In the meantime, you can make some kind of accompaniment for the quiche. We chose breakfast sausage, but in retrospect a salad might have been a nicer pairing. Sausage + eggs + lotsa cheese can get a little heavy.

When you remove the quiche from the oven it will look something like this:

Nicely puffed, lovely and golden. Mmmm. Start singing Tonight’s gonna be a good night and get your groove on, baby. Take it down, spin it around, and shake that thang!

Then do a quick check around to make sure no one witnessed your little ‘episode’.

Let it cool for a few minutes, and then serve!

The quiche is very cheesy and rich–here’s a picture to illustrate. Um, my mouth is watering.

After we had finished dinner it came to light that the quiche contains cottage cheese.

“Cottage cheese!?” exclaimed my husband. “That’s gross!” The funny thing is, he had never actually tried cottage cheese–I guess the lumpy look of it wigged him out. But the point is, if you have manly cottage cheese haters in your family, they will be none the wiser unless you choose to personally drop the bomb.

I chose to personally drop the bomb, but that’s just how I roll.

The best part: the crusty brown sides and bottom.

My pale Scandinavian roots indicate that I will never have toasty brown sides, or a lovely tanned bottom. Dang it! It’s the raw cottage cheese look all the way.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Easy, Cheesy Tex-Mex Quiche

Feeling medeom: pages from my weird little 6-year-old brain

Good morning everyone!

Today I’d like to jump into one of the funniest books on the shelf: my 6-year-old journal (sorry Terry Pratchett–your status has been demoted to 2nd funniest author in the house).

I alluded to the nature of my entries in this post, when I shared a fantastic little poem written about my younger sister Erica:

“Erica is stupid, Erica I hate/Erica is nothing but a little bit of bait.”

And if that doesn’t sum up our relationship as children in a wonderfully concise and precise way, I don’t know what does.

In my defense, we got off to a rocky start when (years prior) she wore this adorable little bear suit–I guess I couldn’t stand living in the shadow of all that cuteness.

I think it’s fascinating to get this unedited insight into a child’s brain–my brain–my obsession with lists (of names, of books, of songs, etc.), my strong emotional love/hate language, my focus on how I felt each day, my need to make an entry every single day that filled exactly one page (on desperate days, this space could be filled with anything from a big heart with a list of animals inside, to a list of songs, to the lyrics of whatever we were singing in church at the time).

One of the things that always strikes me is that for at least a year, I felt compelled to share a one-sentence summary of my feelings at the end of almost every entry. The choices were (apparently) three:

“I feel good”

“I feel bad”

“I feel medeom”

Medeom. Heh heh. Hunh hunh. Someone didn’t know how to spell.

I’d be writing about something completely random, like how much I hated my parents, and suddenly end with “I feel good.” It makes no sense unless you see this pattern of strict self-evaluation played through the entire journal. Because at the end of the day, it was all about how I felt. Yeah. And it . . . um . . . still is? Yeah.

I was a little hedonist. And I (maybe, perhaps, who knows) still am a little hedonist.

What can I say in my defense? Is it a crime to have fun? Is it wrong to want to feel good? Is it??

Anyway, for your reading pleasure I am inserting some pages from this journal. I will translate them below (with the original spelling) in case you have trouble interpreting my somewhat unskilled penmanship–I was in the throes of first grade and I didn’t have time to shape all my letters with utmost care. The pages I picked are right before our move from Indianapolis, Indiana to Madrid, Spain. Mom, Dad, Erica, Heidi–I hope you are not too shocked at my sometimes violent feelings of love and hate towards all y’all.

(Page 1)

Today is  Friday Jan. 10, no Jan. 11, 1990. Heidi is the littlelest is so very very very very very cute. I prably said but just is case I am moveing to Spain. I am not exited. but I heard that they are cleanig the place. Hear is my hole clas first, School #84 1990 5 girls 10 boys, Girls Jenna Leslie Kimmy Emily Sarah, boys David Ben Allen Brian Cory Alex Rob Ryan O Mrs Detzler But 10 Boys, Jonathan John

(Page 2)

Today is Saturday Jan. 12 1990. Specal Books, Anne of Green Gabeles, Black Butey, Shakespeare, Tales from the Arabian nithts, those are good books & A Littel prinsess, I love that book. I want my own room When we are in Spain. Dad is a softy Mom is a hardy! I fell Good.

(Page 1)

Today is Friday, Feb. 9, 1990. Friday is the favorite day in the world for me. Erica is gon like always. When I was in kindergarten I thought I was so great just beacouse I was in shool. Also when I was in kindergarten I saw a note it said, Jennifer no Jenna go to the Jahn’s house there family is, Mr. & Mrs. Janh Tim Amy & Rachel

I hate mom today

I feel medeom.

(Page 2)

Today is Sat. Feb. 10, 1990. I hate mom today. today Jennifer came ovor to my house. I found out that Mrs. Stumt nows the Lord. it was enberessing. I may have menchend this But When we go to Spain I want my own room with a key cous I could put the key in the room and put one key in my pocket then my sisters could’nt get in. I would alsoe want a harp. I feel medeom.

And that’s it for today. If you want to see my very early attempts at novel-writing and maybe squeeze out a guffaw or two, I refer you to this post–it’s a good ‘un.