I made a quiche. It took a bloody long time. It's perverse to think that the preparation of three eggs could take the better part of an hour. That's how long they took just to get cooked. But then I thought of something even more perverse: I was going to have to open a bottle of white wine when it was verging on the dead of winter (I'm too cheap to start heating the house yet).
White wine and quiche are legendary matches. Quiche Lorraine comes from practically the same hallowed ground as the famous Rieslings of Alsace. So as the oven timer ticked and tocked, I deliberated whether something other than the red wine that I really wanted could do the job on a blustery night. The oven was on. That felt good. Baking dinner was a nice idea. But in the end every reliable wine source says a vegetable quiche has to be served with sauvignon blanc or an Alsacian wine. On this particular evening, either one of those seemed like an unwelcome guest at a private party.
So I go to reach for a red. When I've made eggs as a main dish in the past, with potatoes, cumin and sherry, in a kind of tortilla attempt, spicy reds were perfect. Spanish and light, usually. For mushrooms, shallots and loads of cream and cheese though? I hesitate. Opening a red with that kind of list of ingredients was a chance I was loathe to take. And so in the end I couldn't bring myself to open even the lightest of light reds that I had on hand in the house.
I uncorked a chilled Trimbach Pinot Blanc 2002. It didn't disappoint, despite the need for warmth. Strangely, it's got something warm about it. Never a shrill wine, I would serve it to my friends who always avoid white. From Ribeauvillé, it's a citrusy and apple-y exilir, pleasantly refreshing, but most notably very smooth. Perfect from the very first pour. And perfect for what seems to be any occasion.