Sealed with a quiche

“Le roy peut attendre; la quiche n’attends mie.”

– Lorraine proverb

Did you know that next Tuesday marks International Picnic Day? I didn’t either but then again, if you fire a dart at a calendar you’re going to hit International Something Mundane Day.

Created by PR departments in companies around the world to advertise their bumf, International Anythings Days are, for the most part, meaningless capitalist veneers – unless of course that there’s a charitable angle, but that’s a different story.

Picnics, in theory, are great. Blanket on the ground (cue the song), wicker basket full of delicacies, chilled beverages, maybe even a bluetooth speaker playing Dinah Washington’s ‘Mad About the Boy,’ picnics can be great. Out of theory and into reality though, picnics in this part of the world aren’t quite as clean and/or dry. The weather, of course, is the catalyst for catastrophe.

By their very nature, picnics need a fair planning of planning and effort and despite our best intentions, no amount of effort or planning can cater for what Irish weather has in store. Then there are the midges, the very bane of any outside venture among the bushes.

And anyway, who goes for a picnic on a Tuesday?

Dear International Picnic Day, what were you thinking about? As I’m (not yet) on the DLA, I’ll be at work next Tuesday. Come the evening, I’ll have the mental capacity of a dead clown. The last thing I’ll want to do is start preparing delicacies for a wicker basket I don’t have. The chilled beverages were drank at the weekend and some fool left the Bluetooth speaker outside in the rain last week and it’s now broke. No, International Picnic Day, it’s not going to happen. And yet…

A food which is synonymous with picnics the world over and which doesn’t require a blanket on the ground outside in the sunshine to enjoy, is coincidentally one which I enjoyed last week and decided that it would become the fulcrum of my next al fresco experience.

QUICHE (KEESCH)

A dish beloved of the ‘70s and ‘80s, quiche actually fell out of favour in some quarters following the publication of Bruce Feirstein’s 1982 book, ‘Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche.’ What was clearly meant as a joke title (the book was a send up of masculine stereotypes), some men – probably young Trumpians – took the erroneous claim quite seriously.

Dear Trumpian headers, what were you thinking about? That’s right, you weren’t thinking. Keep up the good work.

As a real man (I checked), I am here to steal quiche back for all of us with sense of humour and who have no truck with immature illusions. Specifically, this week’s entry is a quiche Lorraine, the original and best of all the quiches. In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that if you don’t like quiche Lorraine, you aren’t a real man.

For maximum effect you’ll be making your own shortcrust pastry here but you can always buy some pre-rolled stuff, though it won’t be as good. Real men make their own pastry.

INGREDIENTS (PASTRY)

190G of plain flour

110g of cold butter, chopped into small pieces

1 egg yolk

4 tbsps of water

LORRAINE FILLING

180g of thick cut bacon (diced) or lardons

2 small shallots, diced

50g of cheese (I used gruyere, ‘cause real men eat gruyere)

200ml of crème fraiche

200ml of double cream

3 large eggs, beaten

Pinch of cayenne pepper

THE PLAN

Start by making the pastry. Dump the flour, butter, egg yolk and water into a food processor and pulse until the mixture comes together like breadcrumbs.

If you don’t have a food processor, you can rub the flour and butter together and when it resembles fine breadcrumbs, mix through the yolk, which you have mixed with the water.

After that, place the dough onto a floured surface and squeeze, lightly knead and mould into a ball. Wrap in clingfilm and retire to the fridge for at least 20 minutes.

Next is the worst part of the whole process: Roll the dough out on a floured surface as thinly as possible (without breaking, obvs).

Lightly grease your quiche tin (23cm x 2.5cm) and as delicately as possible, place the dough on, gently pushing the pastry into place along the bottom and the flutes.

Cut off the excess along the top with a sharp knife (don’t bin the extra pastry just yet) and prick the bottom with a fork a few times. Place the tin in the fridge for a while to chill out.

After about 15 minutes, you need to blind bake the pastry. Using tin foil or baking paper, line the pastry and fill with ceramic beans or dried beans and place the tin in the oven (pre-heated to 180C) for 15 minutes. After that time, remove the foil and beans and if any cracking has appeared, patch these up with the excess pastry you saved from earlier.

FILLING

In a dry frying pan, fry up the bacon or lardons for a few minutes until starting to go crispy. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside to drain on a piece of kitchen paper.

Add the shallots to the pan and fry these on low for a few minutes until soft. Do not brown!

Cube up the cheese and sprinkle this onto the bottom of the pastry base. Next add on the bacon and the softened shallots.

In another bowl, mix the crème fraiche with the double cream until completely combined and then add in the beaten eggs. Give this mixture a pinch of salt and pepper and finish with the pinch of cayenne. Pour this into the pastry and top another bit of grated cheese (for the craic).

Very carefully, place onto the top shelf of the oven and let it rip at 170C for 25 minutes until beginning to golden and the eggy mixture has set.

Remove from the oven and let it sit and steam in its own heat for about five minutes before removing from the tin.

Serve warm with chips and some crunchy lettuce; this is sensational stuff.

Like a real man, jist.