I wrote the other day that I’m impatient for the weather to catch up to my summer mentality.  I mentioned that I’m eating burgers and strawberry cake and such, in spite of the cold weather.  But maybe that’s not quite right.  Maybe I’m really eating those things to entice summer.  I, for one, cannot resist a good barbecue and maybe, just maybe, summer feels the same way.  So, I’m thinking this: let’s all have a barbecue, even if only here on this web site, and cross our fingers that summer, along with its sultry heat and golden light, will want to join our party.  I’ll bring beer, which should help.  Or even some fresh-squeezed lemonade?  I bet summer could use a cold one.

Aside from beer, the other essential ingredients for a barbecue include some sort of meatstuff, kissed with the smoke of the grill; a buffet of irresistible salads and sides, from baked beans to potato salad to buttered corn on the cob to vinegar-y cucumber slices to salted, thick-cut rounds of heirloom tomatoes (I could go on); a good place to sit down, lean back and maybe even kick off your shoes; and a dessert, preferably involving ice cream, to round out the night.

I’m hoping to have a lot of these barbecues this summer—up on our roof deck; at various other decks around the city; at the beach, perhaps, seeing as though I’ve never done that during my nearly ten years of living on Lake Michigan; on the deck behind my parents’ house; on my grandparents’ porch; near the pool in Michigan with my husband’s family; in Gena and Alex’s backyard, as their dog Jimbo frolicks around us; in Boulder over the Fourth of July, when we’ll celebrate Jon and Emily’s wedding; maybe even around a grill belonging to someone I haven’t even met yet.  As you can see, I’m not picky when it comes to barbecues.  I welcome them all.

For today’s virtual, come-hither-summer barbecue, I’ve got a mouth watering line up (below).  Even summer won’t be able to resist.

Summer BBQ Menu

Chipotle Turkey Burgers
•
Maple Baked Beans
•
Sweet Corn with Smoked Paprika Butter
•
Blue Cheese Coleslaw
•
Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie (I used Martha’s pie crust recipe, as usual)

Visit this page for more menu ideas.

Oh, Chicago.  Forgive me.  Just one post ago, I doubted you.  I questioned why I put up with your snow, your rain, your biting wind.  And, gently but surely, you showed me.  You showed me that the sky that hangs over this skyscrapered city is not always low and surly and gray—that, instead, it can spread bright and high, like a brilliant blue canopy.   You reminded me that the wind, once whipping, can mellow, becoming a gentle, warm breeze.   After months of buttoning up, you got me to take off my coat.  You let me eat dinner al fresco, wriggling my sandaled toes beneath the table.  And you did all this in the span of one spring Friday by delivering sunshine and eighty degrees.  Well played, Chicago.

You know what this means, though, right?  I’m going to want more.  I’m greedy that way.

I’m already daydreaming about gardening and marketing and barbecuing and general sun-basking—occupations that are best saved until June.  But, for this weekend at least, I can pretend.  A key portion of my plan to stage a make-believe summer weekend is this: a picnic.  I’m envisioning  a checked blanket spread out in lush green grass, under a giant, leafy oak tree.   Being April, I suppose a leafless tree will do.  Perhaps we can find one that’s sporting tiny green buds.

On the blanket, between Kevin and me, will be a spread fit for grazing and lazing: a sandwich, or two; a salad, of some sort; something crunchy and pickled; something sweet and bite-sized.  Perhaps we’ll tote a chilled bottle of sparkling wine, too.  To toast our beloved Chicago, of course.

Picnic Lunch Menu

Roasted Vegetable Sandwich with Goat Cheese
•
Tomato, Mozzarella & Salami Pasta Salad
•
Crisp, Pickled Vegetables
•
Chocolate-Almond Butter Bars
•
Sparkling Wine

]]> http://thekitchensinkrecipes.com/2009/04/25/under-a-leafless-tree/feed/ 11 http://thekitchensinkrecipes.com/2009/04/01/easter-menu/ http://thekitchensinkrecipes.com/2009/04/01/easter-menu/#comments Thu, 02 Apr 2009 02:45:57 +0000 Kristin at The Kitchen Sink http://thekitchensinkrecipes.com/?p=5056

If I had to reduce Easter to only one image, it would be a tiny pair of mary janes, as white as milk and made of patent leather.  More than the colored eggs and baskets brimming with candy, I looked forward every year to being able to wear those pristinely white shoes.  They squeaked a bit with each step and they scuffed at the slightest sneeze, but I loved them.  They were usually worn over a pair of opaque white tights and they were the perfect complement to a pastel-colored, full-skirted dress.  Some years, I would round out the ensemble with a bonnet (oh, yes I did) or a pocket book, but really, it was all about the shoes.

[My grandparents, me and my Easter shoes.]

Beyond the shoes, I don’t recall us having a steady Easter tradition.  Sometimes we were at my grandparents’ house in northern Minnesota, other times we were at my parents’ house.  A few years, we were in California visiting my aunt.  Unlike Thanksgiving and Christmas, when our meal follows a well-wrought script year in and year out, we didn’t have a standard Easter dinner.   When my sister and I were older, my family began eating Easter brunch with close family friends.  That family’s tradition was to cook a big Italian meal, as they did most Sundays.  Their Easter version was served midday and usually included a hearty centerpiece, like chicken cacciatore, along with some brunch items, like a broad frittata.

So I guess I’m adopting the Jensens’ tradition a little bit with today’s Easter menu.  We’ve got the brunchy component covered with a hearty strata, studded with chunks of multigrain bread, tomato and feta.  For a savory centerpiece, I’m suggesting a sage-and-fennel crusted pork tenderloin, which you can do on the grill or in the oven.  To those, I would add a big bowl of steaming, salt roasted potatoes and a simply dressed leafy green salad.  With dessert, I like the nod to the rabbit (as in the Easter Bunny) with a homey carrot cake piled high with billows of cream cheese frosting.

I’ve outgrown the white patent leather mary janes (and I no longer spin around in circles, letting my skirt flare up revealing my tights; a shame), but I think I could get used to new traditions with a menu like this.

Easter Menu

Tomato-Feta Strata
•
Fennel-and-Sage Crusted Pork Tenderloin
•
Salt Roasted Fingerling Potatoes
•
Mixed Greens, Simply Dressed
•
Carrot Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

Between the constant onslaught of depressing news (economy, I’m looking at you), a long work week and The Return of Winter 2009 (happens every year; why am I still stunned?), I am so ready for the weekend.  I can almost taste it: mindlessness, lazing, puttering, strolling—all the luxuries that the work week dispenses with.  And there’s only a mere Friday (lovely in its own right) standing between me and this weekendly luxury!  It’s enough to make a girl giddy.

I’m extra excited for this weekend because we spent last weekend in Boston (photos here).  It was a great trip—unexpectedly glorious weather, an excellent tour guide (Kevin’s sister, who we were visiting), wonderful co-tourists (Kevin’s parents) and a belly constantly full of delicious food—but it left me exhausted.  So, I’m looking forward to more of a hunker-down kind of weekend this time around.

It’s weekends like this when I love to put together a fun meal for just Kevin and me.  Maybe it’s a pan of lasagna or fresh-from-the-grill burgers or steaks alongside a heap of oven fries—all things more decadent or time consuming than our average weeknight meal.  One of my favorite things to do is to throw ourselves a fiesta for two, and that’s the menu I’m sharing today.

This fiesta begins and ends with blood orange margaritas.  I make no bones about: these drinks are the clincher of the meal. I think you should still be able to find blood oranges in the markets, though they could be close to disappearing.  If they’re gone, no matter.  Just replace the blood orange juice with the freshly-squeezed juice of any other citrus, like grapefruit or lime.

Between sips of these frosty, fuschia cocktails, there will chips and salsa, of course, and maybe even a bowl of guacamole.  You can munch on those things as you prepare the main attractions: chipotle chicken burritos and a chickpea salad, full of lime, cilantro and manchego.

At the end of a meal like this—hearty, flavorful, filling—I don’t want much in the way of dessert.  Kevin, my co-fiesta-er tends to disagree and for this reason I’ve added a little something in to round out the meal: key lime bars.  I suppose I could probably manage a tiny square.  It is the weekend, after all.

Fiesta Menu

Blood Orange Margaritas
•
Salsa & Guacamole
•
Chipotle Chicken Burritos
•
Chickpea Salad with Cilantro & Lime
•
Key Lime Bars

Check out some other menus here.

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I hope I don’t sound too scroogey or anti-cupid here, but I’m not all that big on Valentine’s Day.  Roses aren’t really my thing and I like to know exactly what type of filling will ooze out of a piece of chocolate if I bite into it.  It’s also a day when restaurants are often at the most expensive (and not at their best quality) and emotions (trumped up by Hallmark et al) can be at their shakiest.   Really, why do we go through this rigamarole year in and year out?

Rant aside, I do think Valentine’s Day is a perfect chance to cook a lavish meal, complete with a bottle of fizzing champagne.  But that doesn’t make Valentine’s Day all that unique in my book.  I find plenty of excuses to cook lavish meals (and, ahem, drink champagne): good news at work, birthdays, anniversaries, completed bar exams.  You name it.  And Valentine’s Day, I suppose, is just as good a reason as any of these others.

So today I’ve got put together a Valentine’s Day menu that fits the lavish bill and that would be lovely with a bottle of bubbly.  It starts out with a bowl of Italian Chicken Soup, which is rich and warming and comforting (things we’d crave on any winter night, the night of February 14 included).  The menu then moves on to pillowy, freshly-made gnocchi tossed in brown butter that’s been infused with sage and laced with crushed hazelnuts.  Alongside the gnocchi is a simple but elegant salad of greens, thin half moons of cantaloupe and pink folds of prosciutto. 

But what you really want to know about, I have a hunch, is this: Where’s the chocolate, lady?  So, your chocolate you shall have, in the form of a wedge of Deep Dark Chocolate Cheesecake.

Happy (early) Valentine’s Day, everyone!

Valentine’s Day (or any special day) Menu

Italian Chicken Soup
      •
Brown Butter-Sage Gnocchi
      •
Arugula, Prosciutto & Melon Salad
      •
Deep Dark Chocolate Cheesecake

In truth, I like sports, but probably more for all the things that come with sporting events: grilling in the sun at a tailgate, recklessly strewing peanut shells under your seat at Wrigley, the Kiss-Cam on the JumboTron, a good worn-in baseball cap.  And, of course, Super Bowl parties.  It’s funny, isn’t it?  Even if you have never even heard of Big Ben or Kurt Warner, you’re probably entertaining a Super Bowl party invitation or two.

And while some of us might tune in to the Super Bowl for the commercials and others of us go for the, oh yeah, game, I unabashedly get excited about the game for the food.  A steaming pot of chili (as is Kevin’s family’s tradition), a smorgasbord of appetizers (as is my family’s tradition)—it’s all good.

The Super Bowl Party-inspired menu I’m putting together today diverges from the aforementioned traditions.  But it does boast non-negotiable Super Bowl staples: artichoke dip (here with sauteed Swiss chard, in place of the usual spinach) and brownies (only the best brownies imaginable, by the way—complete with a layer of peanut butter frosting and ganache).  To that, I’m suggesting you add beer boiled brats (grilled inside if you live in a climate like mine) with caramelized onions and roasted sweet potato fries.  But if you decide to go the chili route (or in, say, a roasted vegetable sandwich or meatball sandwich direction) instead, I’ll understand.

Super Bowl Party Menu

Swiss-Chard Artichoke Dip
•
Beer Boiled Chicken Brats with Caramelized Onions
•
Sweet Potato Oven Fries
•
Peanut Butter & Fudge Brownies with Salted Peanuts

You were all so nice to me about this new menu idea.  I’m glad you’re as excited about it as I am.  For the second menu, I gravitated toward breakfast, probably because I love it so much.  I’d go as far as to say it’s in my top three favorite meals of the day.  (Ba-dum-DUM.)  Pulling together this menu has got me thinking about my ideal morning.

There are the weekday mornings that start at a mind-numbing hour and involve tearing myself out of bed and prying my eyelids open.  But lately, they also involve a scoop of yogurt, topped with grapefruit segments and a walnut-and-dried cherry-laced granola—and that’s nothing to sniff at.  There’s aslo a delicious comfort to the routine and a stillness to the dark quiet of our building, our street, our neighborhood, our city at that hour.

Then there are the weekend mornings, when it’s just Kevin and me.  And, really, for a couple hours, while he still sleeps, it’s just me.  During those hours, I like  to sit really still, with my fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, reading something lovely—maybe the New York Times online or a blog or a book.

And I love the catch-as-catch-can quality of a morning on the road—the moments right after you wake up, before you remember exactly where you are; the hunt for the best breakfast you can possibly find.  This is all even better if you’re waking up in a tent, sunlight filtering through the neon nylon and a campstove with your name (and a batch of pancakes’ name) on it.

All these mornings have in common a measure of tranquility.  But I adore a noisy diner or a big family brunch too.  And big family (and I use “family” loosely, as always—neighbors, roommates, whatehaveyou) brunch is what I’ve got in mind with today’s menu.  It’s got a hearty egg dish; a light salad of baby greens, grapefruit and shaved fennel; and—get ready—ultimate sticky buns, which are ultimate indeed and quite possibly one of the best things I’ve ever made.  It’s definitely got the makings of an ideal morning.

Not only is this meal delicious, but it’s got a lot of make-ahead options.  You can take the strata right up to the point where you pour in the eggs and you can all but bake the sticky buns.  Bake both of those things off while you throw the salad together.  And pour the mimosas.  Don’t forget the mimosas.

Happy weekend, everybody!

Big Weekend Brunch Menu

Tomato Feta Strata
•
Grapefruit-Fennel Salad
•
Ultimate Sticky Buns
•
Special Occasion Mimosas
•
Coffee and Tea

Every time I’ve wanted to complain about the weather this week (“I can’t feel my toes!”; “Let’s move to southern California or better yet Maui!”; “When’s our next vacation?”; “Is the sun still yellow, I wonder, because I don’t even remember”; “Why, Chicago, WHY?”), I visit weather.com and type in my grandparents’ zip code, which has frequently elicited an air temperature well below zero and a truly horrific “feels like” temperature (which, I’m convinced, is just a cruel feature and weather.com should be ashamed of itself for even thinking of it).  If my grandparents can handle this Alberta Clipper, so can I.

When this doesn’t work—times like this morning, when I was engulfed in a whoosh of fat snowflakes that threatened to knock me over and successfully killed my hair for the day on my way into work—I instead try to go to my wintertime happy place, which involves an overstuffed couch, a crackling fire and hearty food.  In reality, our couch is rather sleek and understuffed, if anything, and our fireplace is gas-powered, so crackle it does not.  But hearty food—we’ve got that in spades.

Take, for instance, the cozy dinner I’ve cooked up in the image above: a thin wedge of butternut squash galette to start the evening; a plate heaped with a scoop of wine-braised beef shepherd’s pie, glazed red onions and lightly dressed spicy greens; all rounded out by a winter-be-damned finisher of salted caramel ice cream.  A meal like this could almost make you crave a winter night.  Almost.

So, this is new. Today is the first of what I hope to be a series of “menu” posts—a compilation of recipes already featured on this site into a menu, based around a theme (like “Cozy Dinner”) or season (like winter).  I’m envisioning a “menu index” to complement the Recipe Index.  I hope it will become a one-stop shop for you when you’re stumped with the age-old question “What’s for Dinner?” or when you’re dreaming up your next shin-dig.  Ideas and feedback are welcome!

Cozy Winter Evening Menu

Butternut Squash Galette
•
Wine-Braised Beef Shepherd’s Pie
Glazed Red Pearl Onions
Baby Greens with Brynn’s Vinaigrette
•
Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream

Okay, enough about me. On to you and this three-day weekend we’ve all just embarked on. I’m sure many of you already have menus planned for the holiday, but for those of you who don’t, let’s play a little choose your own adventure. It works like this: choose one option from each of the next three sets of photos (mains; sides; sweets), all pulled from the archives of the last 100 posts, and you’ve got yourself a BBQ. BYO fireworks.

First, the main dishes, all carnivorous (for the vegetarians, skip down a category!)—sandwiches (steak & blue cheese; brisket & cheddar; turkey meatball; grilled chicken); fun with beer (beer can chicken; beer boiled chicken brats); and grill love (grilled pizza; bourbon-glazed ribs):

(Click “more” for the rest of the categories.)

Next, the sides. If you are finding yourself in “guest of the BBQ” shoes, rather than “host of the BBQ” shoes, might I suggest one of these summery salads—the standards (potato salad; coleslaw); the new favorites (cuke salad; grilled veggie orzo salad) and the colorful (green & yellow bean salad; roasted vegetable panzanella):

Last, but never, never least, the treats. There’s an emphasis on the creamy & frozen here, for obvious reasons: ice cream sandwiches; fro yo; blondies a la mode; ice cream cake:

Voila! You’ve got yourself a BBQ. Enjoy the long weekend!

The quiche. Oh, the quiche. It’s not a coincidence that I’ve pushed the quiche post to the very last of the brunch posts that have occupied The Kitchen Sink this week. In a way, it’s saving the best for last, because this is probably one of the most decadently delicious things I’ve ever made. But it was also one disaster after another and I guess I haven’t exactly been impatient to revisit them. But, lest you think the brunch was all sweets (see Tuesday‘s and Wednesday‘s posts), I wanted to give you a glimpse into the savory. And, of course, the debacles along the way.

It all started with a very, very bad decision. The original choice to make a quiche was innocent enough. But as the brunch’s numbers swelled to 12, I realized one regulation sized quiche wouldn’t do. Instead of making two quiches, I thought it would be easier (ha! ha! ha!) to make one super-sized quiche. I would make a deep-dish shell and would fill it to the brim with custard. Considering several of the brunch guests were only in Chicago for a short visit, I thought it was very Chicago-style of me.

(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos and the recipe.)

Chicago-style of me, sure, but also very reckless. Stubborn. Obstinate. Over-confident. You see, I’d read here, here and here about the wonders of Thomas Keller’s deep-dish quiche. And I’d also read about how fussy and disaster-prone it was. I read that the crust could fall. I read that the custard could inexplicably seep out of the pastry shell. But, I also read the writers’ and their commenters’ suggestions for avoiding these pitfalls. Confident that my quiche shell would not fall and that my custard would not escape its shell, I forged onward. And I decided to use Keller’s basic custard recipe and lace it with caramelized onions and gorgonzola dolce (an idea I got here).

Per the writers and commenters I’d read, I anchored the dough to the mold like a madwoman. And I inspected it (and re-inspected it and then had Kevin re-re-inspect it) for holes, which I patched with leftover dough. Nevertheless, my crust fell:

Because I really didn’t want to start over, I again forged ahead. Bad decision #2 (or, I’m sure there were more along the way, but bad major decision #2, at least). I caramelized the onions, I aerated the custard in the blender and I layered the frothy eggs, onions and lavish smears of goronzola in the shell. Er, what was left of the shell. Which left me with about half of the custard leftover (so, I guess my shell fell by half). And by the time I had washed my hands and returned to slide the quiche in the oven, there was an ominous puddle of custard leaking out one side of the quiche.

Kevin was in a state of red alert by this time and he was nervously hovering nearby. As my chin started wobbling and my eyes got teary, he swooped in as Captain Optimism. He called the shell”rustic and cool.” And he insisted that we bake off the leaky quiche, certain it would “still taste good!” Thankfully, I listened to him. And, by george, it worked. Or at least, it kind of worked:

It wasn’t the beauty I’d envisioned. But it also wasn’t the very bad disaster I feared at one point. And, man, was it delicious. It was also insanely rich. In fact, I baked off the leftover custard in a 9 x 13 pan and even that was incredibly rich, and it wasn’t enveloped in a buttery, flaky crust. As I told you on Monday, we served the quiche with a spicy, tart grapefruit-fennel salad that was a great yin to the quiche’s yang.

To recap, here was the menu:

Coffee, Juice, Mimosas
•
Mini Toasted Almond Scones
•
Caramelized Onion & Gorgonzola Dolce Quiche
Wedges of Chicken Breakfast Sausage
Grapefruit-Fennel Salad
•
Sour Cream Coffee Cake

And, now the quiche recipes, if you dare:

Basic Quiche Shell

Thomas Keller

2 cups flour, divided, plus a little more for rolling
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup (2 sticks) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-inch pieces
1/4 cup ice water
2 tablespoons canola oil

Place 1 cup of the flour and the salt in the bowl of a heavy-duty mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Turn the mixer to low speed and add the butter a small handful at a time.

When all the butter has been added, increase the speed to medium and mix until the butter is completely blended with the flour. Reduce the speed, add the remaining flour and mix just to combine.

Add the water a little at a time and mix until the dough gathers around the paddle and pulls cleanly away from the sides of the bowl. It should feel smooth, not sticky.

Remove the dough from the mixer and check to be certain that there are no visible pieces of butter remaining; if necessary, return the dough to the mixer and mix briefly again. Pat the dough into a 7- to 8-inch disk and wrap in plastic. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour or up to a day. (If the dough does not rest, it will shrink as it bakes.)

Lightly brush the inside of a 9-by-2-inch removable-bottom tart pan with canola oil and place it on a jelly roll pan. Place the dough on a floured work surface and rub on all sides with flour. Flatten it into a larger circle using a rolling pin or the heel of your hand. Roll the rolling pin back and forth across the dough a few times, then turn it 90 degrees and roll again. Continue to turn and roll until the dough is one-fourth inch thick and about 14 inches in diameter. (If the kitchen is hot and the dough has become very soft, move it to a baking sheet and refrigerate for a few minutes.)

To lift the dough into the tart pan, place the rolling pin across the dough about one-quarter of the way up from the bottom edge, fold the bottom edge of the dough up and over the pin, and roll the dough up on the rolling pin. Lift the dough on the pin and hold it over the pan, centering it. Carefully lower the dough into the pan, pressing it gently against the sides and into the bottom. Trim any dough that extends more than an inch over the sides of the pan and reserve the scraps. Fold the excess dough over against the outside of the ring. (Preparing the quiche shell this way will prevent it from shrinking down the sides as it bakes. The excess dough will be removed after the quiche is baked.) Carefully check for any cracks or holes in the dough, and patch with the reserved dough as necessary. Place in the refrigerator or freezer for at least 20 minutes to resolidify the butter. Reserve the remaining dough scraps.

Place a rack in the middle of the oven and heat the oven to 375 degrees. Line the quiche shell with a 15-inch round of parchment paper. Fill the shell with pie weights or dried beans, gently guiding the weights into the corners of the shell and filling the shell completely. Bake the shell until the edges of the dough are lightly browned but the bottom is still light in color, 35 to 45 minutes.

Carefully remove the parchment and weights. Check the dough for any new cracks or holes and patch with thin pieces of the reserved dough if necessary. Return the shell to the oven until the bottom is a rich golden brown, 15 to 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow the shell to cool completely on the jellyroll pan. Once again, check the dough for any cracks or holes, and patch if necessary before filling with the quiche batter.

Basic Quiche Batter
Thomas Keller

2 cups milk
2 cups heavy cream
6 eggs
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
6 gratings fresh nutmeg

Combine the milk and cream in a large saucepan and heat over medium heat until scalded (meaning a skin begins to form on the surface). Remove from heat and set aside to cool slightly, 10 to 15 minutes.

Put the eggs, the milk mixture, salt, pepper and nutmeg in a blender and blend on low speed about 5 seconds to mix thoroughly, then increase the speed to high and blend until the batter is light and foamy, about 30 seconds. Immediately pour into the hot quiche shell and bake.

Roquefort and Leek Quiche
Thomas Keller

3 pounds leeks (about 5)*
6 ounces Roquefort cheese, crumbled (about 1 1/3 cups)*
Basic quiche shell (recipe above)
Basic quiche batter (recipe above)

Cut off the dark green leaves from the leeks and discard. Cut off and discard the root end and bottom 1 inch of each leek. Cut the leeks lengthwise in half and wash well under cold running water. Place cut side down on a cutting board and slice crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick slices. (You should have 4 to 5 cups packed leeks.)

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the leeks and cook for about 5 minutes, or until tender. Drain the leeks and spread them on a baking sheet to cool. Place a rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven to 325 degrees.

Squeeze the cooled leeks to remove excess water and dry on paper towels. Scatter half the chopped leeks and half the Roquefort evenly into the hot quiche shell (still on the jelly roll pan).

Blend the quiche batter again to aerate it, then pour in enough of the batter to cover the ingredients and fill the quiche shell approximately halfway. Top the batter with the remaining leeks and cheese. Blend the remaining batter once more and fill the quiche shell all the way to the top (if you don’t have a very steady hand, you might spill some of the batter on the way to the oven; fill the shell most of the way, then pour the final amount of batter on top once the quiche is on the oven rack). You may have some batter left over. Bake for 5 minutes. The filling level will drop. Pour in the remaining batter to fill to the top; there may be a little left over.

Bake for 1 hour, 15 minutes, until the top of the quiche is browned and the custard is set when the pan is jiggled. Remove the quiche from the oven and let stand 15 minutes before serving, or cool, then refrigerate until chilled, at least 1 day, or up to 3 days.

Once the quiche is thoroughly chilled, using a metal bench scraper or a sharp knife, scrape away the excess crust from the top edge. Place a large bowl upside down on a work surface and place the quiche pan on top of that. Gently remove the outside ring, working it free in spots with a small knife if necessary. Return to the refrigerator until ready to serve.

To serve, heat the oven to 375 degrees. Line a baking sheet with lightly oiled parchment paper. Using a long serrated knife, and supporting the sides of the crust with your opposite hand, carefully cut through the edge of the crust in a sawing motion. Switch to a long slicing knife and cut through the custard and bottom crust. Repeat, cutting the quiche into 8 to 10 pieces. Place the pieces on the baking sheet and reheat for 15 minutes or until hot throughout. To check, insert a metal skewer into the quiche for several seconds and then touch the skewer to your lip to test the temperature of the quiche.

* I used caramelized onions in place of leeks and gorgonzola dolce in place of Roquefort.