Chapter 18 - Sunrise Quiche
During the renovation, Hannah started experimenting in the kitchen after hours. She had spent two years cooking elaborate, joyless meals for a man who only wanted to criticize her. Now, she was cooking for herself.
One morning, she pulled a massive cast-iron skillet out of the oven.
"Taste this," she demanded, cutting a steaming slice and dropping it onto a plate for Frank and me.
It was a deep-dish quiche, packed with roasted red peppers, sharp cheddar, fresh spinach, and a perfectly flaky, buttery crust.
Frank closed his eyes, chewing slowly. "Hannah... this is illegal. It’s too good."
"What do we call it?" I asked, taking a bite and marveling at the flavor.
May you like
"The Sunrise Quiche," Hannah said proudly. "Because every time I make it, I remember that I get to wake up and actually see the sun now."
It went on the menu the next day and sold out in two hours.
