Stewed Veal with Chard, Zucchini and Potato Gratin

A RECIPE OR TWO

Whenever I found out anything remarkable, 

I have thought it my duty to put down my discovery on paper, 

so that all ingenious people might be informed thereof. 

- Antonie van Leeuwenhoek 

I simply wanted to share these recipes with you. No fanfare, no trumpets, no stories as I gather you together round me in front of a roaring fire. No tales told in the dead of night to the watery glow of a flashlight as we sit shivering in a tent too small to hold us all comfortably. No comedy to have you doubled up in laughter, no dramatic tragedies, you hanging on my every word with bated breath, as I recount some death-defying adventure. My stories will have to wait, but these recipes will not.

I am in the middle of so many projects: articles and submissions to be written, compiled and sent; next year’s workshops and events to organize, proposals to be put together and my series on Writing to work on so this week is dedicated to these. And as I work, husband cooks, only calling me into the kitchen so as to make my béchamel for his gratin. Happy am I to have a man who not only loves to cook, but is so good at it.

This was lunch, rather frugal, very seasonal and much too delicious and satisfying not to share. As neither son was around to dine with us, we enjoyed Veal and Gratin three meals in a row, the second and third even better than the first, if that is at all possible.

Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act 

that should not be indulged in lightly. 

– M.F.K. Fisher 

I will mention the wine. We have been on a voyage of discovery these last several years, discovering and learning about the wines of our region. We visit local wine fairs and tastings, we drive out into Muscadet, Anjou and Saumur to visit domaines, taste, learn and buy. As I get to know the winemakers in my region, I also connect with them on Facebook so as to get to know the people behind the wines a little better, thus understanding the dynamic between the vigneron and the terroir which produces these wines. A few months ago, husband and son went out to walk Marty in the vineyards outside of Nantes and decided to visit le Fay d'Homme near Monnières. They returned home with a case of “La Part du Colibri” Côt, a wine we were served at that first memorable meal at one of our favorite local restaurants Lulu Rouget. A wine, a grape that for a long time was a table wine reserved for the winemakers themselves, considered (somewhat like Muscadet, in fact) not good enough to sell or serve to clients. Caillé decided that the fruity wine, rich and spicy with cherry, plums, hints of pepper and anise would be appreciated by those who love wine and decided to commercialize it as Côt.

Vincent Caillé, a fifth generation wine grower, is one of the few of this region to produce organic Muscadet and is stoutly committed to tradition in his farming and his winemaking, both of which are completely natural. He is an active member of Les Vignes de Nantes, an association whose aim is to familiarize the nantais with the fabulous wines coming from their own region through events, tastings and fairs as well as bringing their wines into the local restaurants, wine bars and wine shops that for much too long were ignoring what treasures were being produced in their own region.

One bottle of Côt from the selection La Part du Calibri from le Fay d'Homme domaine was hidden in the back of a cupboard and when JP found it realized how perfect it would be with his meal.

The veal is cooked blanquette style yet without the final step of stirring in cream and egg, the cooking liquid from the vegetables adding and heightening the flavor, leaving the veal fork tender and delicious. Paired with the creamy vegetables, this is the perfect seasonal meal. It may not look fancy, but it is definitely worth the effort, comforting, rich and flavorful.

CHARD, ZUCCHINI AND POTATO GRATIN with STEWED VEAL

The veal and the gratin are so perfect together and balance each other out so well that I have given instructions for both together in steps as JP prepared the entire meal. The veal, once pre-boiled and drained, is then placed in the vegetable liquid that the chard and zucchini were cooked in which infuses the meat with wonderful flavor. If you only want to make the gratin, read through the recipe carefully and eliminate anything to do with preparing the veal.

1 lb (500 g) small or fingerling potatoes – or any firm potato, cleaned, peeled and cubed into bite-sized chunks
4 small zucchini, trimmed, peeled and cut into bite-sized chunks
One bunch Swiss chard, white stems only, trimmed, cleaned and cut into more or less 1-inch pieces
1 small yellow onion, trimmed, peeled and chopped
2 cloves garlic, trimmed, peeled and chopped
water + 1 vegetable bouillon cube or vegetable broth to cover
Béchamel (recipe follows)
2 cups finely grated Parmesan cheese

Butter a large (9 x 13-inch approximately) baking dish.

Prepare the vegetables:

Place the cubes of potatoes in a large pot with a large pinch salt and cover with water. Bring to the boil, turn down to a simmer and cook until the potatoes are fork tender, about 20 minutes or as needed. Drain.

Sautée the onion in a large frying or sautée pan in about 2 tablespoons olive oil until tender and just beginning to turn golden around the edges. Add the chopped garlic and continue cooking for about two minutes until the garlic is tender. Add the small cubes of zucchini and the small pieces of white chard stems and cook, stirring for a few minutes until starting to soften. Barely cover with broth or water (adding a small bouillon cube to the water) and simmer until the stems and the zucchini are very tender, almost melting in the mouth. Remove from the heat and stir in the cooked cubes of potatoes.

Using a slotted spoon, scoop the zucchini, chard stems and potatoes into the baking dish, leaving the vegetable liquid broth in the pan for the veal.

Prepare the veal:

28 oz (800 g) veal shoulder or about 21 oz (600 g) + 7 oz (200 g) veal tendron or tendon with the bone in, cut into large chunks (2 – 3-inch chunks)
1 small onion with 1 or 2 cloves stuck in it
1 glass dry white wine, optional
Fresh chives

The veal will be cooked like a classic blanquette before the usual addition of cream and egg to the sauce. Prepare the vegetables above and then make the veal once the cooked vegetables are in the baking dish awaiting the béchamel.

Place the chunks of veal in a large pot and just cover with cold water. Bring to the boil, remove from the heat and drain. Scrape or rinse off any scum or impurities.

Place the pre-boiled veal in the pot with the vegetable liquid, add the small onion with the cloves then just cover with water. Salt and pepper. Add the glass of wine if using. Bring to the boil then lower to a simmer and cover. Simmer for one hour until the veal is very tender, skimming the surface of foamy scum or impurities as needed. At the very last minute, the water should boil away leaving just a thick jus or sauce. Remove and discard the onion and cloves.

While the veal is simmering:

Prepare the Béchamel:

Prepare the béchamel once the veal is on its way.

3 Tbs (45 g) butter
3 Tbs flour
3 cups (700 ml) whole milk (you can use lowfat but it will not thicken as much)
¼ tsp or more adobo chili powder
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Large pinch nutmeg

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat until bubbly. Add the flour all at once and stir or whisk until the flour is well blended into the butter. Cook, stirring or whisking briskly, for 2 to 3 minutes.

Begin adding the milk, a little at a time, whisking constantly, and allow the milk to thicken after each addition. As it thickens, add more milk and repeat until all the milk has been added and the sauce is fairly thick (it should at least coat a spoon). Add the chili, salt and pepper generously and allow to simmer very gently, stirring continuously, for about 10 - 15 minutes. Stir in a pinch of nutmeg. Taste and adjust the seasonings. 

Pour the hot béchamel over the prepared chard, zucchini and potatoes in the baking dish and gently stir until the sauce is evenly distributed. Sprinkle generously with the Parmesan all the way to the edge of the dish.

Bake in the hot oven for about 20 to 30 minutes or until bubbly and the cheese is golden and browned as you like.

Time the two dishes so the gratin and the veal are finished at the same time. Serve immediately topped with chopped fresh chives and enjoy! Both are great even reheated the next day.

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A Very French Mac and Cheese

MY AMERICAN FOOD ROOTS AND A VERY FRENCH DISH

For someone who was always hungry, 

I never paused between mouthfuls of steamed shrimp and wedges of Indian River oranges 

long enough to consider the culinary heritage of the place of my youth. 

– Florida ‘space coast’ cuisine, American Food Roots 

A little up time, a flurry of writing, working, planning, punctuated by a slow slide into calmness, hibernating under blankets, snuggling into a soft nest of pillows. The rain has been replaced by sunshine, wavering between watery, tepid rays and bright, invigorating light. Springlike days have replaced the shimmering pewter skies and dismal ambiance. I saw my first piece published on American Food Roots, a site dedicated to our American culinary heritage. Delighted was I to become a part of such an informative, fascinating site and an informed, talented community. Thrilled at the chance to collaborate with such brilliant, passionate women as Domenica Marchetti, Bonny Wolf, Carol Guensburg and Michele Kayal.

Riding high on this writing adventure, I plan and organize my trip to San Francisco, my Experts Are In session with my pal Ilva Beretta. I have my press pass in hand for this weekend’s Salon du Chocolate Nantes edition, the first of its kind in our town, very exciting! and a date to meet my favorite chocolatier. The next From Plate to Page workshop in beautiful Ireland approaches rapidly. Plans, ideas and projects swirl around my head and begin to take shape; more stories and articles get typed, edited and mailed. Maybe it is the weather, the light and warmth lifting the spirits and energizing the creativity. Maybe it is the affirmation of being published, the anticipation of more that inspires.

 Hunkered down and cozy.

Or a stroll around Nantes when the sun comes out.

And we are still hunkered down for the winter.

For a breath of summertime and a taste of fresh seafood and citrus, please visit American Food Roots and read my piece on the food of My Florida. You’ll find my recipe for smooth, cool Cream Puffs with Orange Pastry Cream and tangy Orange Glaze with photos by Ilva Beretta.

My own photo of my luscious orange cream puffs.

What does one prepare when the craving for something homey and comforting hits yet no one desires to make that dash to the store? (I sit at my desk and type, he works on his own project, banging out pages upon pages in between one phone call and the next. It becomes a Push-Me-Pull-You situation when shopping is discussed.) One rifles through the cupboards, one stares at all the packages of grated comté and emmenthal that have somehow, inexplicably, accumulated in the refrigerator and one has that aha moment of Macaroni and Cheese. And not just any macaroni and cheese, but something oh-so very French. Lots of French cheese and elbow macaroni smothered in luscious, healing, soothing béchamel. The only foreign touches are a fine yet healthy grating of Parmesan and a generous dusting of panko for crunch. Comfort food at its best in any culture.

VERY FRENCH MACARONI & CHEESE

Béchamel Sauce:
3 ½ Tbs (50 g) unsalted butter
3 ½ Tbs (45 g) flour 3 cups (about 750 ml) whole milk
½ large or 1 medium onion, chopped
Fresh thyme leaves, chopped, or dried thyme
1 small bay leaf
½ to 1 tsp chipotle chilli powder or cayenne pepper
Dash ground nutmeg
Salt and pepper

Mac & Cheese:
Béchamel Sauce
2 – 4 cups grated hard cheeses (Comté, Emmenthal, gruyere, Swiss)
½ cup or so freshly grated Parmesan cheese
½ cup or so panko or other breadcrumbs
1 lbs (500 g) dried elbow macaroni or similar

Butter a large, deep baking dish; mine is approximately 12 x 7 x 2 ½ -inches and pyrex.

Cook the pasta according to package directions, drain and place the cooked macaroni in a large, heatproof mixing bowl.

Prepare the Béchamel:

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over low heat. Add the chopped onion and cook for several minutes until soft and translucent. Add the flour all at once and stir vigorously to blend; cook for a minute or two. Add the milk a little at a time, whisking after each addition until the mixture thickens and is smooth. Continue whisking in the milk a little at a time until it has all been poured into the saucepan. Whisk in a pinch of thyme, the bay leaf, the chipotle chilli powder and a pinch of nutmeg. Salt and pepper to taste. Continue cooking, whisking constantly, until thick, about 10 to 15 minutes. Remove from the heat; prepare the macaroni and cheese while the béchamel is still hot.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Pour the hot béchamel over the cooked paste and stir until all of the pasta is coated with the sauce. Toss in all of the grated cheese except for the Parmesan, keeping about ½ cup of the mixed cheeses aside for the top of the casserole. Taste and adjust seasons according to taste. Pour into the buttered baking dish and spread evenly. Top with the rest of the grated cheeses, the grated Parmesan and ending with the panko, all evenly distributed up to the edges.

Bake in the preheated oven until bubbling and the top is a golden brown, about 20 to 30 minutes, keeping an eye on the surface of the mac & cheese towards the end. Timing depends upon the oven, the size of the baking dish and how browned you like the crust.

Serve hot and gooey with a bright, tart mixed salad and a bottle of light red white.

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Assyrian Spinach Pies

THE PERSNICKETY ONE EATS

I had one of each. Our first son, Clem, was a mother’s dream: he ate everything. From the moment our pediatrician gave us the nod, allowing us to feed him petits pots, puréed baby food, we offered him tastes of everything. Propped up on my lap or in his high chair, husband would push a fingertip smeared with fresh goat cheese, chocolate pudding, soufflé both savory and sweet, gravy, dips and sauces and everything and anything we adults happened to be eating at the moment.

As soon as Clem graduated to more complex foods, we handed him lemon wedges, garlic cloves, thin slices of spicy merguez and he happily tasted, sucked and gobbled it all up. As he grew, Clem was truly a happy eater. He may not have been drawn to fruit, sticking to banana and strawberries with the occasional pear, and may have turned up his nose at fish and seafood, but everything else was a go, no matter how exotic, no matter the ingredients. He adored vegetables, whether raw, sautéed, roasted, baked or simmered. Ratatouille, baba ganoush, couscous heady with carrots, zucchini and pumpkin, stews, gratins, salads, well…anything. What a joy to cook for this boy! What a pleasure to accompany him to a restaurant. A happy, adventurous, generous eater.

And then there was Simon. Yes, I had one of each.

I remember the day that Simon stopped eating. Clamped those 2-year-old rosebud lips shut and that was that. White rice, pasta “in bianco” or with a plain red sauce, swordfish quickly grilled pfshhh pfshhh and placed in front of him with the merest drizzle of olive oil. Oh, fried he would eat and pizza received a nod of the head, even fruit of any color was accepted, but vegetables were henceforth relegated to the back burner and someone else’s plate. From there on out, one had to be very creative indeed to get this sweet little boy with the angel’s face to eat. He was incredibly wary, picking apart each dish with the patience, concentration and skill of a surgeon. He noticed the microscopic specks of carrots in my carrot cake; he spied and questioned the flecks of green in my zucchini cupcakes. To this day, young adult that he is, he stares at whatever food I place on his plate, whether savory or sweet, with suspicion. He eyes me with cynicism and distrust, finally asking, eyes narrow slits, lips pressed together, “what did you put in it?” My “Nothing!” does nothing to reassure him and often he simply responds with “I’m sure you put something I don’t eat in there….”

* sigh * It breaks a mother’s heart.

Yet…. Yet… I have succeeded twice or thrice, patting myself proudly on the back for pulling one over…. um, making my child eat a vegetable. A generous grating of freshly Parmesan over steamed broccoli was the first surprise. But shhhhhh don’t breath, don’t make a noise, don’t point anything out or make a stink or the spell might be broken. Do not under any circumstance make him think that you won! Just bite your tongue and carry on, mom.

And spinach. Well, feta works wonders, like magic it is! Spanikopita, Spinach-Feta Triangles in their crunchy phyllo shell. And this.

Assyrian Spinach Pies are more than just spinach in a marvellous, tender yeast dough triangle. Plenty of feta cheese gives it that salty, tangy kick; pomegranate seeds or dried cranberries sweeten it up. Chopped nuts, lemon juice and bits of caramelized onion make for a flavorful hand pie. And every boy – and their mother – quite happy. Serve with a salad, a glass of wine and dinner is served.

Assyrian Spinach Pies are the February Bread Baking Babes’ challenge. Our Babe and Kitchen of the Month Tanna of My Kitchen in Half Cups had us bake these marvelous savory Syrian Sabanrhiyat pies. I followed the recipe, only changing the pomegranate seeds with chopped dried cranberries, the walnuts for pecans (I had planned to use pine nuts but the cupboard was bare) and cardamom for the mahleb. I changed the procedure just a little and it turned out a great dough, easy to work with even when rolled out very thin, light and fluffy when baked. It is a little fiddly and fussy to form the triangles around the slippery dough as bits of spinach, feta and berry try to escape between your fingers, but it is easier than you can imagine. And the results are worth the time and one I’ll make again. Even your finicky eater will eat his spinach.

Visit all the Babes and see how their Assyrian Spinach Pies turned out! If you would like to bake with us as a Bread Baking Buddy, visit Tanna’s post and find out how!

Bake My Day – Karen
Bread Baking Babe Bibliothécaire – Katie
blog from OUR kitchen – Elizabeth
Feeding my enthusiasms – Elle
girlichef – Heather
Lucullian Delights - Ilva
Living in the Kitchen with Puppies – Natashya
My Kitchen In Half Cups – Tanna
Notitie Van Lien – Lien
Paulchens Foodblog – Astrid
Provecho Peru – Gretchen

Happy 5 year anniversary, Bread Baking Babes!

I will be sharing the Assyrian Spinach Pies with Susan of Wild Yeast for Yeastspotting!

Assyrian Spinach Pies
Adapted from the original recipe from A Baker's Odyssey: Celebrating Time-Honored Recipes From America's Rich Immigrant Heritage by Greg Patent

Yield: 24

For the dough:

2 1/4 tsps (8 g) active dry yeast
2 cups (500 ml) warm water (105° to 115°F)
1/2 tsp ground mahlab or cardamom
5 cups (675 – 700 g) unbleached all-purpose flour, plus more as needed
2 Tbs granulated sugar or granulated light brown sugar
2 tsps salt
1/3 cup (85 ml) olive oil

For the filling:
2 Tbs extra-virgin olive oil
1 large yellow onion, chopped
1 pound (500 g) cleaned baby spinach, squeezed dry and coarsely chopped
1 cup (4 oz, 110 – 115 g) chopped walnuts or pecans coarsely chopped or pine nuts
1/3 – 1/2 cup coarsely chopped dried craneberries
1 cup crumbled feta cheese (about 4 ounces/110 g) or fresh goat cheese
1/3 cup (85 ml) lemon juice
2 Tbs olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Salt
Olive oil for brushing
Plain yogurt or dip for serving

Prepare the dough:

In a small bowl, measure out 1 teaspoon of the granulated sugar and add the dry yeast. Add ¼ cup (60 – 65 ml) of the warm water and let rest for about 10 minutes until the yeast is dissolved and the liquid foamy.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the flour, remaining sugar, the salt and the ground mahleb or cardamom and stir just to combine. Once the yeast is frothy add it to the flour mixture. Add the remaining 1 ¾ cup (about 435 ml) warm water and the olive oil to the bowl. Stir with a wooden spoon until all of the dry ingredients are moistened and the dough gathers into a mass. Let stand for 5 minutes.

Scrape the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and knead vigorously for 6 minutes until soft and elastic, flouring the work surface as necessary to keep the dough from sticking. This is a very soft dough and will still be slightly sticky at the end of the 6 minutes kneading. Place the kneaded dough in a large, clean and oiled (olive oil) mixing bowl, turning the ball of dough to coat with oil. Cover the bowl lightly with plastic wrap and a clean kitchen towel and let the dough rise until it has doubled in size, from 1 to 1 ½ hours. When the dough is pressed with a finger, the depression will remain once the finger is removed.

Scrape the risen dough onto a lightly floured work surface. Divide the dough into 24 pieces (a scant 2 ounces/ 56 g). Shape into balls, arrange on the floured work surface and cover loosely with the plastic and the kitchen towel. Let rest for 30 minutes.

Prepare the filling:

While the balls of dough are resting, heat the 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender and golden, 8 to 10 minutes. Remove from the heat.

Put the chopped spinach into a large mixing bowl. Add the nuts, the chopped dried cranberries, the crumbled feta, the lemon juice and drizzle with 1 - 2 tablespoons olive oil. Toss. Pepper to taste and toss again. Taste again and salt as needed, keeping in mind that the cheese is salty.

Prepare the pies:

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C) and place the oven rack in the center position of the oven. Line 2 large cookie or baking sheets with cooking parchment. Have extra parchment ready for more cookie sheets if needed.

Shape the pies: roll each ball of dough into a thin 6-inch (15 cm) circle, flouring the dough and work surface lightly as necessary to prevent sticking. Pile about ¼ - 1/3 cup of the filling, loosely measured, onto the center of each circle, leaving about 1 inch of dough exposed all around. Brush the exposed dough lightly with water. Shape each into a triangle (think Hamentaschen): imagining the circle to be a clock, lift up the edges of dough at the 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock positions to cover the top part of the filling and pinch firmly to seal, going all the way to 12 o’clock. Lift the 6 o’clock position of dough to meet in the center and pinch the two edges firmly to seal, using one finger to push the spinach and filling back inside. The seams will look like an inverted Y. Set the pie on one of the prepared sheets. Working quickly, form 7 more pies, placing them on the cookie sheet with a little space between them.

Line up the pies on the lined baking sheets; brush each pie lightly with olive oil or half olive oil-half melted butter. Bake in the preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes until golden top and bottom.

Remove from the oven to cooling racks.

Serve warm or at room temperature (or take on a picnic!) with Greek yogurt, red or green salsa, or your favorite avocado dip.

Leftover pies can be easily frozen. Place the try in the freezer until the pies are frozen and then transfer to heavy-duty, resealable plastic freezer bags for up to one month. To reheat, thaw the pies and then place on a lined baking sheet and bake in a preheated 350°F (180°C) oven for 10 minutes.

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Black Bean and Goat Cheese Pizza

Last week one day I put a post on Facebook saying that I was making a black bean and goat cheese pizza.  Having never tried it before I added the comment at the end…”How could that not be good right?”  To those of you who responded that there was no way it could be good, you’re just plain crazy.

This ended up being an absolutely delicious pizza and we all were fighting for the leftovers the next day. 
I pretty much followed the same recipe that I use when I make black bean and goat cheese quesadillas the only real change being the pizza crust instead of tortillas.

Goat Cheese and Black Bean Pizza
Preheat oven to 500F (I use a pizza stone on the bottom shelf and cook my pizzas on a cookie sheet directly on the stone.)
1 package of store bought pizza dough or your own recipe (I make a bread machine dough that we love).  Stretched as shaped on a pan.  We use a cookie sheet pan and make rectangular pizzas.
Black Bean Topping
2 Tbs. olive oil
1 lg yellow onion, finely chopped
3 cloves of garlic, minced
24-oz. can black beans, rinsed and drained
2 tsp. ground cumin
1 Tbsp. chili powder
1/2 tsp oregano
1/2 cup water 
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 jalapeno, chopped or sliced if desired
4 oz. or more goat cheese, crumbled
Directions
In a medium skillet, heat the oil over medium heat until hot. Add the onion and garlic and sauté, stirring, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the beans, cumin, chili powder, oregano and 1/2 cup water and cook, stirring occasionally, until almost all the water has evaporated, 5 to 7 minutes. Take the pan off the heat. With the back of a fork, break up the beans to make a chunky mash. Stir in half of the cilantro and season with salt and pepper.
Spread the black bean mixture over the pizza dough and crumble the goat cheese and dab on top, sprinkle with jalapeno.
Cook until hot and bubbly and the pizza crust is browned to your liking (should be about 20 minutes but keep an eye on it.  My oven is funky at 500F.  Sprinkle with cilantro and serve.

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CAULIFLOWER AND POTATO GRATIN

THE MAN COOKS… AGAIN AND AGAIN!


My men are a unique bunch: they are handsome, wickedly funny, bright as all get-out, über talented and creative. But if they are anything at all, they are discreet. Not so much shy as shunning the limelight; they loathe being talked about, are uncomfortable being shown off; they are wary of my verbosity in front of my blog and social media accounts, mistrustful of how much I talk about them to my friends; they don’t appreciate being mentioned nor do they want their photos splashed across Life’s a Feast or my Facebook page; they simply do not want their private lives bared to the world. I am woman and they are man and rarely the twain shall meet, yet as I try and understand their vagaries and respect their wishes, I sometimes, well, let’s admit it, I slip up. Ooops! But how does one such as I write something as personal as a blog or even write at all without talking about the three most basic elements, the most important components of my life?


As winter rages outside…. Okay, I will admit that rages is a bit farfetched, for the temperature bounces up a few notches, then down a few, neither settling on frosty nor on balmy, less raging than hovering around some wishy-washy in between and the snow still eludes my every request – okay, let’s start again... As winter settles in gray and desolate, teasing me with much-yearned-for glacial weather and the promise of snow in her steely glance and misty afternoons, my husband and I spend most of our time huddled together in the apartment. So face to face, with him part of my every waking moment, I find it close to impossible not to talk about him. Especially when he is doing all of the cooking.

As you may know, we are Starting Over. After the long, arduous conversations, the hashing and rehashing, tossing ideas, thoughts, fears and dreams back and forth like two kids playing ball in the street on a dull summer afternoon, we came to the decision – and not for the first time in our many years together – that husband should leave his job (for a quantity of reasons) and it was time for us to recreate ourselves yet once again. Adventure awaits, the world opens before us in a multitude of possibilities. The lure of pleasure and the fulfillment of dreams enchants as a Siren’s song, seduces us with their dangerous, mesmerizing beauty. Galvanized by our various projects and simply delighted at having the time we aren’t each sitting in front of our separate computers to be together, we seem to be possessed by some reckless, crazy Utopia of an ideal world where we can get by doing just what we love doing and maybe, just maybe, have a positive effect on someone, somewhere. We may be deluding ourselves, it is true, but when have hard work and passion not come together to create something perfect? Or something close to it?


But back to the food. My husband has always loved to cook from his earliest years, and now that he is home he has been more than happy to take over the kitchen at mealtimes. Raised on hearty, wholesome, traditional French family cooking kicked up with his two years living in Morocco and enriched with the food he experienced during his travels across Europe, he has built up an incredibly rich repertoire of favorites. He saunters through the market choosing his purchases carefully, studiously, selecting only local, seasonal fruits and vegetables, planning dishes compatible with the weather and our mood. Poached whole sea bass or choucroute laden either with Alsatian sausages or seafood, a spicy couscous or exotic tagine, mussels marinière served with sizzling frites or an herbed côte de boeuf, lasagnas meaty and traditional or layered with smoked salmon, his talents are endless, his taste impeccable! Onions chopped, herbs ripped, meat sautéed, potatoes puréed, he has kept me happily fed for 25 years and he still never ceases to amaze me. Granted, his menu choices often defy my diet, but diet is a word that just isn’t in his vocabulary and any mention of that dreaded concept can work him into a fury. Raised on pot au feu, guinea fowl wrapped in tender green cabbage, creamy, cheesy potato gratin dauphinois and blanquette à l’ancienne, food is meant to comfort and soothe, fill one up and carry one through the rest of the working day. Salad is to end the meal not replace it, fruit accompanies a platter of cheese and a loaf of bread and wine is served at every meal. Yes, many a meal nowadays chez nous is made up of a large mixed salad or a healthy, light bowl of vegetable soup, but when one desires to cook a meal, well, one cooks.


So I pull up my chair to the table, tuck a napkin under my chin and dig in. The first mouthful a revelation, the second, a confirmation, the third and each after pure pleasure. I close my eyes and savor yet another marvelous dish and wonder that he can take the most humble of ingredients, toss in a handful of seemingly random this or that, sautée, simmer or bake and create such flavorful, inspiring, delectable dishes. And today’s is simple indeed: Cauliflower and Potato Gratin. This is the man who refuses to allow a cauliflower or a broccoli to cross the threshold into our home, bans each from the kitchen, forbids the cooking in any way, shape or form of such two who leave an acrid, pungent odor behind, trailing a whip of cabbage stench from livingroom to bedroom. Yet he loves the humble, elegant cauliflower, so excuses are made, reasons found for the occasional foray into cauliflower love. When he is feeling admirable, exemplary in his sense of responsibility, he will steam the flowerets and serve them in a chaud-froid style simply tossed still warm from the pot with a tart vinaigrette studded with finely minced shallots, lovely pale purple dots against the pristine white of the cauliflower, the vinaigrette giving a sparkling, clean bite to the mild vegetable. But when he is feeling decadent or when the weather is chilling us to the bone, he opts for something richer, creamier, more filling, a dish that leaves us content and replenished, protected against the harsh elements and the mad, mad world outside.


So, at the risk of making him upset or having him ask me once again to never speak of him on my blog, of being reprimanded for opening up our intimate details for all the world to ogle and dissect, I will say that I am married to an incredible cook, an incredible man. He began cooking when merely a boy in his maman’s kitchen while she worked, taking over entire meals while others of his age were going through their adolescent woes and rebellions. His passion for food has never stopped growing and lucky am I to have him cooking for me! Ah, but we were talking about a Cauliflower and Potato Gratin, weren’t we? Simply steamed potatoes and cauliflower, tossed in a luscious, thick, creamy béchamel and topped with both Parmesan and nutty Gruyère or Comté cheeses then popped in a hot oven to bubble and brown… nothing, dear reader, says Winter Comfort Food better than this.


Looking to hone your food writing or photography skills or just needing to kickstart your creativity? Feeling the blogging blues and desiring inspiration? Wanting to bridge the road between blogger and professional? Looking for an intimate, hands-on, practical workshop rather than a huge, traditional conference? If you missed our exciting, successful From Plate to Page workshop in beautiful Tuscany then you won't want to miss the next! Registrations are now open for From Plate to Page in spectacular Somerset UK in Spring 2012! Check out the program, the accommodations and reviews of P2P Tuscany and P2P Weimar... and then sign up before all the spaces are filled! I'll be there offering writing instruction, critique and ideas.


CAULIFLOWER AND POTATO GRATIN
Jamie & JP team up in the kitchen


1 head cauliflower, trimmed and broken into large flowerets *
Several potatoes that stay firm while boiling **

About 1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
About 2 or 3 cups grated Gruyère or Comté cheese

* Flowerets broken into small, bite-sized pieces will fall apart or crumble when being blanched or steamed. Pre-cook them in larger pieces and cut into smaller bites before tossing in the béchamel.

** How many potatoes, you ask? I did not see how many JP peeled and cooked, but maybe about half to ¾ the quantity of cauliflower you use. Combined, the vegetables blended with the béchamel should fill a 13 x 9-inch baking dish or slightly bigger. Read this post about JP cooking au pif…

Béchamel
4 Tbs (60 g) butter
4 Tbs flour
3 cups (700 ml) whole milk
1 small to medium onion trimmed and finely chopped
1 bay leaf
½ tsp dried thyme or 1 tsp fresh leaves
Large pinch nutmeg
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Prepare the vegetables by simply cleaning and trimming the cauliflower and cutting into large sections and steaming or simmering in salted water until tender but not too soft or mushy; they will continue to cook in the oven, and peeling the potatoes and simmering in salted water until tender but not too soft. Drain.

Once well drained, cut into smaller pieces and toss together.

Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C). Butter a large baking dish.

Prepare the Béchamel:

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat until bubbly. Add the chopped onion and toss to coat. Lower the heat slightly and cook, stirring, for about 3 or 4 minutes until the onion is soft and transparent and just beginning to turn golden on the edges.

Add the flour all at once and stir or whisk until the flour is well blended into the butter. Cook, stirring, for a minute 2 to 3 minutes. Then begin adding the milk, a little at a time, whisking to blend and allow each addition to thicken. As it thickens, add more milk and repeat until all the milk has been added and the sauce is beginning to thicken. Add the herbs, salt and pepper generously and allow to simmer very gently, stirring continuously, for about 10 minutes. Taste and adjust the seasonings. Remove the bay leaf.

Pour the hot béchamel over the prepared cauliflower and potatoes and gently toss until the sauce is evenly distributed. Pour into the gratin or baking dish and spread out evenly. Sprinkle the Parmesan and then the Gruyère/Comté evenly over the top of the vegetables all the way to the edge of the dish.

Bake in the hot oven for about 20 minutes or until bubbly and the cheese is a deep golden and browning as you like.


Serve as a side dish with roasted meat or chicken or with cold cuts or sausages or as a main course for lunch simply with a large mixed salad. And a glass of wine.

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PEA, MINT & FETA RISOTTO WITH ROASTED TOMATOES AND PARMESAN SCONES

RAIN, RAIN, GO AWAY...


Fall rain is somehow different from summer rain. June and July were unusually chilly, the days of bright sun alternating with dreary gray, intermittent with rain. We stayed crouched in front of the television, waiting impatiently to begin living the walks and outings, the promises of summer, as we usually do this time of year. And then, as quickly as it disappeared, the sun would make a return appearance and we would enjoy a few more days of lovely weather, as if the rain simply rushed through to cleanse and refresh. Then off I flew to the States where I was greeted by the scorching heat, heat seeping under my skin, clothing pressing to my body like unwanted hands holding tight, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps each time I stepped over the threshold. The heat in Oman was heavier on the skin, pressing, harassing, choking, all the more so for the long sleeves we wore. Short bursts outside followed necessarily by cooling breaks indoors or in the Gulf breeze, icy lemon mint drink in hand.

Gorgeous, welcoming days of autumn fluttered around me upon my return to France. Comforting, cajoling with the promise of long strolls followed by picnics, moods refreshed. Yet since this weekend we sit shivering in the damp chill of the apartment, Marty pacing back and forth between hallway and living room searching desperately for a much-needed and expected ray of sunlight splashing across the carpet, his usual spot for a snooze. To no avail. We scooch on an extra layer of sweaters, sauté onions to be slipped into simmering broth sweetened by warm, plump golden raisins and ladle the liquid gold over steaming couscous, cupping our hands around the toasty bowl as we breathe in the fragrant wisps of comfort. The rain of autumn is unrelenting in its harshness, its all-encompassing moodiness envelops us in dark thoughts, our limbs heavy, our brains soft. No glimmer of hope in a fall drizzle, no hint of sun waiting patiently in the wings. We stare out the window and think that it will never, ever end.


Today, as I glance out at the pewter sky, rooftops hazy in the thick, heavy gloom, I try and conjure up autumns past. Our trip to Italy looms on the horizon, and I am sorely praying for a truly Tuscan autumn. Leaves turning to gold and burnished red, flaming orange pumpkins, porcini and chestnuts in hues of chocolate snuggled side by side with deep purple figs in a festive embrace. Autumn’s colors are romantically deep and moody, the rustle of leaves and the breeze tickling our senses with mystery. Oh, we had rain in Italy, torrential rain, but I choose to remember the beauty that surrounded me on those special days of cool sunshine, impeccably dressed men and women hurrying down Corso Vercelli or heaps upon heaps of artichokes green, jade, violet threatening to tumble from market stalls; the heady scent of Parmesan in tremendous wheels, smoked scamorza and taleggio as Franco and Vittorio shout Buon Giorno! Come Stai? from the brightly lit area behind the chilly cases; as the tortellini and ravioli turn to pumpkin and mushroom and deep purple grapes hang in elegant bunches from the dark foliage spread across our terrace. Yes, the furs and quilted jackets come out, the sun is brilliant and the smell of chestnuts haunts us from every street corner. That is my autumn.

But as the weather turns unexpectedly in its precipitation, I wonder at the urgency, the need to skip entirely over gentle summer, an entire season. I long not for the searing, seething heat of New Orleans, Florida or Oman, but the quiet warmth of the ideal summer, of long days with windows flung open, feet up, our moods as relaxed and calm as the weather. I dream not of a torrid, aggressive, sweltering canicule as we have know so well in another life, but a temperate, peaceful turning towards autumn. Suitcases emptied of beachwear and shorts; sandals flung into the closet as sunglasses are tucked into etuis, I have been digging out thicker knits, shrugging on fleece and trying to squeeze into trousers not worn for a year. Happily, we drive down to Italy so I can stuff my biggest suitcase with a wide selection of summery, fall and cold weather outfits, shoes and coats galore, whatever I might possibly need. But I pray for a cold, crisp, bright autumn. And the food that goes with it.


But for now, until them, I hold onto summer in the kitchen. The bright reds, greens and brilliant white of the clean, fresh foods of a hot weather season bring cheer to the gloom, warmth to the icy bleakness and visions of Mediterranean islands. Slow roasted cherry tomatoes are fruity and smoky, peas sweet and tender, aromatic mint a breath of outdoors, feta adding saltiness and zing to salads, pizzas and pasta. I bring the three together in a dish to warm us up on a chilly day in a damp apartment and it works wonders! Risotto is soothing and comforting and I pop the traditional Risi e Bisi (Rice and Kisses), Pea Risotto, by adding lots of chopped fresh mint and crumbled feta to the mix instead of parsley and Parmesan and serve it with sweet, tangy roasted cherry tomatoes, an extra flavor boost. Served with fluffy scones rich with Parmesan cheese and a bottle of red wine and the meal is complete. And we sit back, warmed and satisfied and dream of Italy.


Don’t miss my latest article on Huffington Post Food in which I analyze The Disappearing Pause Déjeuner, a veritable family tradition in France.

And if you haven’t yet voted, there is still time. Life’s a Feast is up for a Blogger’s Choice Award in the category Best Food Blog. Every vote counts and I would greatly appreciate yours!


Last but certainly not least, visit our new From Plate to Page website. Keep up to date on our workshops and don’t miss one single guest post from our illustrious and talented guests, each a professional food writer, stylist or photographer, who have come to Plate to Page to generously share their story, experiences and views on the evolution of their profession.


PEA, MINT & FETA RISOTTO WITH ROASTED CHERRY TOMATOES


1 small onion, finely diced
3 Tbs (45 g) unsalted butter
1 Tbs olive oil
1 ½ - 2 cups young, tiny sweet peas, fresh or frozen
@ 5 cups (1 ½ litres) chicken or vegetable stock, warm
9 oz (250 g) round rice for risotto, Arborio, Vialone Nano or Carnaroli
Handful of chopped fresh mint
3.5 – 5 oz (100 – 150 g) chopped or crumbled Greek feta
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Firm cherry tomatoes, about 4 or 5 per person
2 Tbs olive oil
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
3 peeled and crushed (not chopped) garlic cloves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Begin by roasting the cherry tomatoes:

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Place the individual quiche tins on a baking sheet.

Stir together 2 tablespoons olive oil with 1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar in a glass baking dish or pie plate. Season with a little salt and pepper and add 2 peeled and crushed garlic cloves. Toss the cherry tomatoes into the flavored oil and roast for about 20 minutes or until the skins are split and shriveled and the tomatoes start to show signs of roasting (a bit golden). If you like, turn on the overhead grill for the last couple of minutes to color. Remove from the oven and allow to cool while preparing the rest.

Prepare the Risotto:

Heat half the butter and the olive oil in a large skillet. Add the chopped onion and, stirring, cook for a couple of minutes until softened and just starting to turn golden. Add the peas and a few tablespoons of the warm stock and cook for a few minutes to defrost the frozen peas or up to 10 minutes for fresh peas until tender.

Add the rice and toss with the shallots and peas until all the grains are coated in oil. Cook for a minute or two until the grains of rice become more translucent. Pour on two ladlefuls of broth and cook, stirring continuously and gently, until the liquid is almost completely absorbed. Continue cooking the risotto over medium heat, adding 2 ladlefuls of broth at a time, stirring constantly and allowing each addition of liquid to be almost absorbed before adding more broth. This should take between 20 and 25 minutes total cooking time from the moment the rice is added to the peas.

A few minutes before the rice is done, stir in a large handful of chopped fresh mint and the chopped or crumbled feta, more or less as you please. Taste and add a bit of salt only as needed – the stock and the feta are both salty so taste to see if any additional salt is necessary. Add pepper.

When the risotto is finished, the rice should be meltingly tender, the risotto creamy and smooth. Remove from the heat and stir in the remaining butter. Serve with the warm roasted cherry tomatoes and the Parmesan Scones.


PARMESAN SCONES
Adapted from the Sept-Oct 2011 French Saveurs magazine


10 ½ oz (300 g) flour
1 sachet (0.4 oz/11 g) baking powder
1 tsp salt
7/8 cup (200 ml) heavy cream
3 ½ oz (100 g) grated Parmesan
2 Tbs milk for brushing the tops of the scones

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Blend the flour, baking powder, salt and grated Parmesan cheese together in a mixing bowl and make a well in the center. Pour the cream into the well and, using a fork, stir together rapidly until the dry ingredients are moistened and the dough begins pulling together. Scrape out onto a floured surface and knead quickly until the dough is smooth and homogenous.

Roll out the dough to a thickness of about ¾ - 1 inch but no more (about 1 ½ - 2 cm) and use a biscuit cutter to cut rounds about 2 inches wide (about 5 cm). Place the rounds of dough on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, gather the rest of the dough together, roll out again, and finish cutting into rounds.

Lightly brush the tops of each scone with milk and bake for 15 minutes until puffed up and the tops are golden. Remove from the oven and allow to cool just a bit before serving. With butter, of course.

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ROASTED TOMATO, FETA AND ROCKET QUICHE

STARTING OVER – STEP 3 (the marriage)

How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being.
- Oscar Wilde

July. Approaching yet another wedding anniversary and my mind wanders back over 24 years of bliss and, well, truth be told, not so bliss. I am often astonished at the comments some friends make to me about my relationship with my husband, confounded that they somehow hold up my marriage as an object of desire, a model of the ever-elusive "perfect marriage". Nothing in this world is perfect and I am bound to concede my profound belief that everything is as one makes it. I try and hover around the truth in these pages, in the stories that I weave for my readers. Maybe my truth is kissed by the fairytale and filtered through a diaphanous veil of romance, but it is undoubtedly the world in which we live. 24 years is a long time to work on anything, whether sculpture, architectural creation or novel, a long time in which to hammer and chip away, write, erase and rewrite, mold and tweak and reshape. Throw into the formula two uncontrollable sons, several odd dogs, a Bohemian lifestyle, a passion for adventure and the unusual, 3 languages, 2 religions and an innumerable number of nationalities and cultures and you have quite a job cut out for you.


Life is a bumpy road full of potholes, unexpected detours, miles of unattractive strip malls and the occasional, disagreeable risk of being pulled over by the cops. Yet there are also long, luxurious stretches flavored with a spectacular landscape enjoyed to the dulcet strains of jazz floating from the radio or, better yet, the invigorating beat of our favorite rock-n-roll station. Hands firmly on the wheel, eyeglasses perched on the end of one's nose and window rolled down just low enough to allow for the warm breeze to sweep across one's cheek, we move briskly forward, no U-turns allowed, punctuated by the intermittent, impromptu stop for a lunch or coffee break or a refreshing nap. We follow the road and we follow the rules; we glance at the road signs and at the map spread out on the passenger seat. Not always quite sure where we are going or what we will find when we get there, we simply try and achieve our goal of reaching our destination in safety and happiness. Life is a wild ride, yes indeed, and JP and I have mapped out a route, a crisscross of highway and tiny side roads, traveling through cities and country towns both, often ad libbing when the mood strikes, certainly hoping for great adventure and a picturesque, soothing atmosphere and stress-free ride.

So as I sit and ponder this thing called marriage, and ours in particular, I wonder what makes this a success. From the very beginning, we spent more than the average amount of time discussing our children: education, language, religion, our place in society. We broke it all down into tiny pieces, analyzed and argued, pontificated, scrutinized and dissected each and every idea and thought. This didn't particularly make raising our kids easier, it gave us neither perfect children, nor did it make us perfect parents, but we can say with confidence that it made us more aware and opened up the door to creativity and innovation, alleviating the worries just a tad and kept us grounded as a family, unafraid to make unconventional choices.

You don't marry someone you can live with,
you marry the person who you cannot live without.
- Anonymous

After the first few bumps on the marriage trail, we began applying this process to our relationship and, truth be told, the harder the ride, the tougher the road, the closer we became and the more we realized that talking together and opening up to the other helped pad us from the brick walls and the tears. Then came the periods of closeness, long passages in which we found ourselves alone together full time, face to face, shopping, cooking, eating, working side by side on our individual projects and taking breaks hand in hand. As many friends have confided, staying home together, spending every waking and sleeping moment together within the same walls is one dangerous situation. There is the risk of stepping on each others' toes, pushing for space and messing up the others' daily routine leading to anger, frustration and fights. Or discovering that there is little to talk about and boredom sets in. Or restlessness. So how is it possible that we have avoided the discord and discontent, the indifference and strife? Or if not avoided it completely, at least accorded it its rightful place and no more.

Is it a secret that you are looking for? Look closely and you will see that it is no secret at all. He and I began this voyage in an odd and unusual way, unconventional from the get-go. And now we are once again on the threshold of starting over and finding ourselves here, reworking the itinerary of this grand voyage, ripping up the map and drawing our own. Home together full time. And it is the simplest of things that makes it work: enjoying each others' company; finding the funny side of everything and laughing as much as possible; sharing the same dream and dreaming big! "You are so lucky," friends tell me. No, luck has little to do with it. Destiny, fate, I am indeed a believer. But like a great recipe for a favorite dish, one must work awfully hard; select each ingredient thoughtfully; chop, blend, stir and simmer with love, care and attention; add lots of spice and pizzazz and serve it up with pride and pleasure. And, above all, enjoy every tiny bit. And don't be afraid to splatter a bit on the floor or down the front of your shirt (or his) every now and then.

"A Straw for the Thirsty" by Richard Lillis, from Private Detective Stories, 1945.

One thing that I absolutely love about having him at home full time now is that he has taken over the kitchen, cooking almost all the meals. Unless, of course, there is a particular dish I am in the mood to make. This week I prepared these delightful, luscious and utterly delicious individual quiches just for the two of us. I so wanted to use up the last of my puff pastry for something savory and fell back on our favorite flavor combination: sweet roasted cherry tomatoes, tangy feta and the sharp bite of rocket (arugula, rucola, roquette). I blended it all into a creamy quiche batter and baked them in my delicate, buttery puff pastry. Tiny, individual quiches are the perfect portion served with a cool, crisp salad followed by fresh fruit. Side by side in front of a good movie, of course.

Have you reserved your tickets for the International Food Blogger Conference in New Orleans, August 25 – 28 yet? If not, don't miss what promises to be a fabulous weekend and experience. I am proud to be speaking about a subject very close to my heart: Food & Culture.


INDIVIDUAL ROASTED CHERRY TOMATOES, FETA, ROCKET AND PINE NUT QUICHE

Follow the basic indications and my links to previously offered recipes and create your own.


One savory (unsweetened) pie crust recipe (recipe and directions here)

-OR-

¼ (for 6) to ½ (for 12) recipe puff pastry (recipe and directions here)

Basic Quiche Filling: for 12 x 4 ½-inch quiches
(make 6 then refrigerate the rest of the batter for a day or two for a new batch with different flavors)

3 large eggs *
1 cup heavy cream, light cream or part cream/part milk *
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Dash nutmeg

* for 6 quiche use 2 large eggs + ½ cup cream

Cherry tomatoes (2 or 3 per quiche)
3 ½ oz (100 g) feta cheese, coarsely crumbled or chopped (for 6 quiches)
Handful of rocket (arugula, rucola, roquette), coarsely chopped
Handful pine nuts

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Place the individual quiche tins on a baking sheet.

Start by roasting the cherry tomatoes:


Stir together 2 tablespoons olive oil with 1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar in a glass baking dish or pie plate. Season with a little salt and pepper and add 2 peeled and crushed garlic cloves. Toss the cherry tomatoes into the flavored oil and roast for about 20 minutes or until the skins are split and shriveled and the tomatoes start to show signs of roasting (a bit golden). Remove from the oven and allow to cool while preparing the rest.

Prepare the quiches:


Roll out the dough on a floured work surface and line the tins, gently lifting in and pressing down the dough. Trim the edges. Refrigerate the dough-lined tins until ready to fill and bake. This can also be done ahead of time.

Measure out the cream or cream/milk in a large measuring cup then whisk in the eggs until well blended. Season with salt, pepper and a dash of nutmeg. Doing this in a measuring cup or glass with a spout or pouring lip is ideal for pouring into individual or mini quiche/tartlet tins avoiding a mess.

Sprinkle a layer of chopped rocket (arugula, rucola, roquette) then chopped or crumbled feta into each of the tartlet shells. Not too much as each is an overpowering flavor. Snuggle 2 or 3 roasted cherry tomatoes into the rocket and feta in each shell. Now whisk the quiche batter so it is blended and pour carefully into the shells on top of the rocket and feta, pouring around the cherry tomatoes to keep the tops of the tomatoes batter free. Fill up each shell only about 2/3 or ¾ full as it puffs up and rises as it bakes. Sprinkle each quiche with pine nuts.

Slide the whole baking tray with the filled quiche tins into the oven and bake for about 40 minutes or until the filling is puffed up and set. The top – or at least the edges – should be a deep golden color.


Quiche are fabulous hot from the oven, warm or room temperature. Or even chilled. Perfect for dinner, lunch, picnic or brunch. I recently made 2-inch mini quiches for a cocktail party filling three ways: gorgonzola + apple, cherry tomatoes + goat cheese, bacon + gruyère.

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