This is My Quiche

This is my quiche. It might not seem like a big deal to produce this baby, especially for someone who lives in France. But, after many years of relying on my chef husband to cook or relying on the lovely French frozen food store "Picard" to provide our meals -- and after many years fleeing any sort of food preparation --  I've decided to take over the kitchen. 

I carefully noted down my husband's instructions and voila! My creation might not be gorgeous, but it passed our eight-year-old daughter's taste test. And mine too. After a lot of time fearing that zone known as the kitchen, I now kind of look forward to planning something decent for our evening meal.

My prior kitchen phobia comes from what I call "Italian American backlash." In my family, the women cooked. It was "women's work." (Do you hear teenage me gagging yet?) That was why I decided I would never do it. I would be the liberated woman of the family and I would not do what was "expected" of me.

So my husband learned my mom's recipes and my grandma's recipes and little by little, after years of living with this amazing cook, I realized that cuisine doesn't have a gender. Today, it isn't about obligation like it was when my grandparents were young in their Italian American community. Today, we have a choice.

I have a choice.

I'm cooking when I want to, how I want to. And when the kids and I want to really eat well, you can find us at the restaurant where our favorite chef is cooking...