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Tomato-Onion Quiche -- The Soup I Made on the Day I Knew It Was My Last September

The school year begins. My last first day. I stood in front of my freshmen — unmasked now, mostly, the masks optional, the plexiglass gone, the desks at normal spacing — and I said, "Good morning. I'm Mrs. Feldman. I've been teaching English in this building for forty-two years. This is my last year. You're stuck with me." A girl in the front row said, "Forty-two years?" I said, "I started before your parents were born." She said, "That's a long time." I said, "It went fast." It did. Forty-two years, and it went fast, the way life goes fast when you're paying attention to other people's lives, which is what teaching is: paying attention to other people's lives so closely that your own life speeds by unnoticed, like scenery from a train window, beautiful and blurred.

I told the principal on Tuesday. Dr. Hernandez — a good administrator, respectful of veteran teachers, understanding of the particular madness that drives a woman to teach English for forty-two years and then voluntarily stop. She asked if I was sure. I said, "I'm sure that I need to be home with my husband." She said, "Ruth, you've been the best thing about this school for longer than I've been alive." I said, "Thank you. Please don't make me cry. I have a class at ten." She made me cry. I had the class at ten. The students didn't notice. Or they noticed and were kind enough not to mention it. Teenagers can be kind. Most people don't give them enough credit.

I made a simple tomato soup — from the garden tomatoes, the last of the season, roasted and pureed with garlic and basil and a splash of cream. The soup was the color of September, which is the color of endings that are also beginnings, and I ate it at the kitchen table and thought: one year. One year of September tomato soup as Mrs. Feldman. Then: Ruth, at the table, with the soup, with the writing, with whatever comes next. I am ready for whatever comes next. I think.

The soup was for the moment—eaten alone, quietly, at the kitchen table while it was still warm. But the recipe I keep coming back to, the one that feels like it belongs to this whole last year rather than just one Tuesday morning, is this tomato-onion quiche: something you can make slowly, with garden tomatoes and a little patience, and bring to the table for people you love. After forty-two years of feeding other people’s minds, I find I want to feed people in a more literal way now, and this quiche—savory and soft and smelling of late summer—is a good place to start.

Tomato-Onion Quiche

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 9-inch pie crust, store-bought or homemade, pre-baked for 8 minutes
  • 2 medium ripe tomatoes, sliced 1/4 inch thick, patted dry
  • 1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
  • 3 large eggs
  • 3/4 cup whole milk
  • 1/4 cup heavy cream
  • 1 cup shredded Gruyère cheese, divided
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 tablespoon fresh basil, torn, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with paper towels, lay tomato slices flat, and press gently to draw out excess moisture. Let rest 10 minutes.
  2. Cook the onions. Warm olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add sliced onion and thyme. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 12–15 minutes until onions are soft, golden, and just beginning to caramelize. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.
  3. Make the custard. In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, milk, and cream until smooth. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in 3/4 cup of the shredded Gruyère.
  4. Layer the quiche. Scatter the caramelized onions evenly across the bottom of the pre-baked crust. Pour the egg custard over the onions. Arrange the tomato slices on top in a single layer, overlapping slightly. Sprinkle remaining 1/4 cup Gruyère over the tomatoes.
  5. Bake. Place the quiche on the center rack and bake for 40–45 minutes, until the custard is set in the center and the top is lightly golden. A knife inserted in the center should come out clean.
  6. Rest and serve. Allow the quiche to cool on a wire rack for at least 10 minutes before slicing. Scatter torn basil over the top. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 20g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 380mg

Ruth Feldman
About the cook who shared this
Ruth Feldman
Week 283 of Ruth’s 30-year story · Oceanside, New York
Ruth is a sixty-nine-year-old retired English teacher from Long Island, a Jewish grandmother of four, and the keeper of her family's Ashkenazi recipes — brisket, matzo ball soup, challah, and a noodle kugel that has caused actual arguments at family gatherings. She lost her husband Marvin to early-onset Alzheimer's and now cooks his favorite meals for the grandchildren, because the food remembers even when the people cannot.

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