This morning after Mass I made breakfast for Maria and I. It turned out to be a sort of last-hurrah breakfast before she left and moved into her new place, but it was first intended to be a “I bought too many eggs and need to use them before Christmas” breakfast.
I had decided before Mass to make a frittata, but in a quick search of the internet decided I couldn’t because I didn’t have an oven-proof skillet. So the frittata turned into a quiche and I grabbed a pie crust at the store after Mass.
(Why do pie crusts come in twos? Isn’t it possible to want to make ONE pie?)
I wasn’t intending to follow a recipe — I figured I would just cook some onions, zucchini, and yellow squash in a skillet, then whip some eggs, add some cheese, cut up some little tomatoes, and then dump everything into a pie crust and bake it. As I cracked the eggs, I asked Maria how many she thought I should crack.
As I finished cracking the eighth egg, she hesitantly said, “All these recipes are calling for two.”
We shrugged and dumped everything in anyway.
I’m not sure what a two-egg quiche tastes like, but an eight-egg quiche is fantastic. Especially with a side of avocado. Yum, yum!