There’s been a quiche qatastrophe and I’m ready to burn the whole damn qitchen down
I hate qooking! And it hasn’t gotten easier with time, maturity or acquisition of know-how.
Quiche – a savory open-faced pastry dish filled with cheese, meat, fish or vegetables
It’s supposed to be a no-brainer, easy-bake, fail-proof recipe.
Who is Lorraine and where can I find her?
I want to qick her in the qeester.
First, there was the pan-searing of the turkey breast
Fire alarm number one.
Second was the cutting of red bell pepper
That happened to be in the same bag as the jalapeno pepper end, I touched my eye
I will not say more.
Third, was beating the egg and milk mixture in a bowl that was too small
Yolks that wouldn’t mix ended up mostly on the counter.
Spinach, shredded old cheddar, crumbled feta, pepper and a dash of salt
Too much mixture for one pie but not enough for two
Beat another egg. Top it off and set on tray.
Into the oven forgot the mushrooms.
Quick! Wash, scrub, slice and dice
Yank pan out of oven, oops spill some egg out the edges
place mushrooms just so. Presentation is everything!
Fire alarms two through infinity followed.
An old bake pan that qrickled and qraned
Twisting and torquing, my quiches roiling from side to side
drip went the egg mix
Billowing smoke, screaming alarm and panicky dogs
Pulling the pan from the oven, slopping more egg and milk
Add panicky qats
Qritters running up and down stairs
Frantic flapping at the smoke detector then, in final frustration and fury
Ripping it clean from the ceiling.
“I HATE LORRAINE!”
Did you hear me Lorraine?
I will hunt you down
I will make you eat my qrispy quiche
My qonfidence is quashed
I qowered in my own qitchen
Another spectacular failure.
But I love to bake
Chocolate chip oatmeal and qoqonut qookies
Perfect pitch golden brown
Perhaps I made my home economics teacher aunt and grandmother proud in the end.
Day 14 NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month)