Saturday, November 05, 2011
Quiche. Made it up. Just in case they like it, I did think about what I was doing, so maybe I can replicate it or tweak it. I figure, baking with enough cheese and eggs, anything will taste good, right? I sauteed leeks, and added spinach too. It's cold. It's November. It's Saturday. It's quiche time.
Four hens are laying these days. Every day is an egg hunt. One in the empty flower pot. Two in the enamel basin where the chicks sleep. One or two in the bedraggled remains of the tomato bed.
Thank you for the eggs. I baked a quiche. It's delicious.
Thank you for the... for... thank you for being handsome, and a protector.
Yes, very handsome.
Of the six chicas hatched in August, I think at least three of them will be hens. Maybe? Hopefully.
And how many of them love me and trust me, and recognize me?
Answer: Not a stinkin' one. Ingrates. Dodos. Knuckleheads. Chickens.
But I love them.
Homer loves them too. Roasted, broiled, bbq'd. Homer loves c.h.i.c.k.e.n. And he even understands when you spell it out loud.
Back to the quiche. Geoff says "Write the recipe down." We have a winner.