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I am never making quiche again. EVER.
My new 'unbreakable' glass-plastic-amalgam casserole dish just EXPLODED in the oven during the second half of baking the crust for the quiche I was supposed to bring to church tomorrow.
Two weeks or so ago, when I tried to make this quiche recipe, Mark Bittman and I had a little misunderstanding about whether "place baked crust on cookie sheet" implied "remove crust from pie pan," which led to a dish like a cookie-sheet-sized omelette with a crust floating in the middle.
Today, I've got a floppy almost-baked crust and a lot of shards of glass.
At least I baked my two batches of scones beforehand. (Even though one batch is lousy.)
It does not help that I've been atwitter with social anxiety all day, endlessly wondering if various things I've said or done at church/choir rehearsal/dinner with the Dean were Weird and fearing that I'm never going to make actual friends at church. FUCK.
ETA: FUCK AND THERE IS A LARGE SPIDER CRAWLING ON MY SCONES.
My new 'unbreakable' glass-plastic-amalgam casserole dish just EXPLODED in the oven during the second half of baking the crust for the quiche I was supposed to bring to church tomorrow.
Two weeks or so ago, when I tried to make this quiche recipe, Mark Bittman and I had a little misunderstanding about whether "place baked crust on cookie sheet" implied "remove crust from pie pan," which led to a dish like a cookie-sheet-sized omelette with a crust floating in the middle.
Today, I've got a floppy almost-baked crust and a lot of shards of glass.
At least I baked my two batches of scones beforehand. (Even though one batch is lousy.)
It does not help that I've been atwitter with social anxiety all day, endlessly wondering if various things I've said or done at church/choir rehearsal/dinner with the Dean were Weird and fearing that I'm never going to make actual friends at church. FUCK.
ETA: FUCK AND THERE IS A LARGE SPIDER CRAWLING ON MY SCONES.
