Thursday, March 31, 2011

Caramelized Onion and Spinach Quiche

I don't really do well with things that are sad. I don't like that heavy pit at the bottom of my stomach or the lump in the back of my throat I get before I am about to cry. I don't like feeling vulnerable. I don't like feeling unnerved. If something sorrowful pops into my head, I tend to push it right back out. I'm sure most of you can agree to that.
I have had a pretty cushy life, so to speak. Most of my loved ones are alive and well. I have great friends and family and a job and a master's degree on the way. My mom and dad let me live at home until I have enough money to get off my feet. I've never had any major illness and all my injuries are trivial from sport.
I've never suffered that one great loss that will change you forever. And I am petrified of that day. Why so somber, you ask? There are only two blogs that I read religiously, and one of the writers has been posting for the past few days about a horrible accident that her older sister was in. Today, she lost her sister.
I think of Vanessa, the 7-year-old who was not at all happy when I was born four days before her birthday. The only person in the entire world who can relate to my upbringing, my sister. I can't imagine saying goodbye to her.
Two of my best friends have lost their fathers within the past few years. I think of my Dad, and remember how I complain that he talks too much or how he always insists on repeating things over and over. But when I got a phone call two New Years Eve's ago telling me my strong Dad had been hit by a car, or when I got to the scene and saw how feeble he looked, I remember begging God that if my dad was okay, I would never complain again.
How quickly those requests come and go, and the trivial complaints return. In times of other's tragedy, I try to put my insignificant problems into perspective, and tonight, I think I'm doing okay.
Tonight, I am posting a spinach quiche recipe (adapted from Cooking Light) that comforts the soul. In times of grieving, I have found that one of the best ways to show you care is food, and though I can't send this across the country to Monet and her family, I will certainly be sending prayers and well wishes her way, and to anyone who has lost for that matter.

Caramelized Onion and Spinach Quiche
2 teaspoons olive oil
3 cups chopped onion
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups frozen Southern-style hash brown potatoes, thawed
1 (11-ounce) can refrigerated soft breadstick dough
Cooking spray
1 (10-ounce) package frozen chopped spinach, thawed, drained, and squeezed dry
1 cup milk
4 eggs
1 1/4 cups crumbled feta cheese

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Heat olive oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add onion, sugar, and salt; cook for 30 minutes or until golden brown, stirring occasionally. Stir in potatoes, and cook for 5 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove from heat.
2. Unroll dough, separating into strips. Working on a flat surface, coil one strip of dough around itself in a spiral pattern (like a snail). Add second strip of dough to the end of the first strip, pinching ends together to seal; continue coiling the dough. Repeat procedure with the remaining dough strips. Cover and let dough rest for 10 minutes. Roll dough into a 12-inch circle, and fit into a 10-inch deep-dish pie plate coated with cooking spray.
3. Spread potato mixture in bottom of prepared crust, and top with spinach. Combine milk, eggs, and cheese; pour the milk mixture over the spinach. Bake at 350° for 1 hour or until set, shielding crust with foil after 50 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

1 comment:

Monet said...

Oh sweet girl...this brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing such kind words. You are a blessing to so many people, myself included, and I've been comforted by your sweet words over the past week. Your quiche looks delicious, but I'm most thankful for your presence. I hope you have a blessed weekend, my dear. Much love.