Hah. I know several Real Men who do, myself included; indeed the only problem with quiche-eating rug

Hah. I know several Real Men who do, myself included; indeed the only problem with quiche-eating rugby-players is their capacity for the stuff. (The irony of that book, written as a humorous satire on Certain Attitudes, is how many of those being satirised regarded it as a sincere validation of their attitudes. To some people, irony is a ferrous form of woody. And I’m not taking that metaphor any further…) If the notion of an open-faced tart filled with smoked bacon and egg custard seems lacking in oomph, then you’ve been hanging around with the wrong kind of tart. The purely traditional Quiche Lorraine (as regional an appellation as “Islay Whisky”) is, I’ll admit, a bit on the demure side.However that eggy filling has a remarkable affinity for sauces with chillis in them, and adding something from any one of the Special Collection bottles lurking in the Restricted Access * section of the fridge will test anyone’s masculinity - and possibly digestive fortitude - to its tear-streaming limit. ( * Not that anyone’s daft enough to rummage about in there without clearance and a damn good reason.) You could call such a treatment Kuchen Lotharingen, because Quiche Lorraine it’s most definitely not. Ours was made from this recipe which @dduane​ found a few days ago, and which worked very well, so nicely calculated that the quantity of filling was exact for the size of crust-lined container with neither spillage nor anything left over. The only spicing shown is a scrape of nutmeg and a grind of Jamaica pepper.The bacon lardons were from Andarl Farm in Co. Galway and, since we hadn’t bought them with this in mind, were their sweet cure; next time we’re definitely getting the smoked ones.When a simple dish is this good, the difference between Real Men and Gentlemen is that one might offer the last slice while the other will just grab it.But to be honest I couldn’t say which would do what. -- source link

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