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View Diary: What's (not) for Dinner? v8.15: more kitchen disasters (175 comments)

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  •  Posted this true story on FB (5+ / 0-)

    a week or so ago:

    Adventures in cooking.

    We decided to try making a quiche today—bacon and egg pie. We used to make them in a microwave years ago, but lost the recipe. This time we started from scratch.

    Pie dough—check. No problem, we've had these perfected for some time. This time, of course we needed to blind bake it (for the first time), using beans to stabilize the bottom (for the first time), and then assemble.

    Bride had cooked up some bacon, sauteed some onions, mixed eggs and cream, and after letting the crust cool, poured it in. Because of shrinkage (normal) in the wall of the crust, and the volume of all the parts, there wasn't a lot of freeboard in the pie pan, so I got out a half sheet pan, put a little parchment on it, put a half sheet rack on, gingerly placed the quiche onto the rack, and slid it into the (still hot) oven.

    Bride had selected the most complicated baking regimen she could find, which featured 15 or so minutes minutes at 425° and then reducing the heat to 350° for a half hour. The idea is, much like an omelet, get things firmed up, but get out of the heat while the center is still a little jiggly.

    Time to remove from the oven. Hot pads galore, and tried to figure the best way to get the ensemble up on the cooktop for cooling. I figured the best thing would be to get the pie/rack assembly out of the sheet pan, which was all kinds of awkward.

    Let's pause for a moment to recap: there's been a lot of time invested so far. Hand made crust, including chill time and rolling out, blind baking, assembly, cooking, heat change, cook some more. We started around mid afternoon, and it's now supper time—about 2000.

    Using a couple of spatulas to try maneuvering the blazing hot materials, the whole thing gave up, did a half gainer off the oven door, and perfectly demonstrated the maxim of dropped buttered bread.

    Yep, custard side on the floor. Thinking quickly, and between mutual recriminations, we flipped the pie pan back over, scooped all the innards off the floor back into the pan, and announced "dinner is served!"

    Yes, kids, Grandma ate floor quiche, but we're not telling her.

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    by exatc on Sun Nov 03, 2013 at 07:19:36 AM PST

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