Ham and Swiss Quiche — The Easter Leftover That Made Sunday Morning Feel Like the Feast Never Ended

Easter was this past Sunday and let me tell you, sugar, there is no Easter like a Savannah Easter. The whole city smells like ham and hyacinth. First African Baptist was packed — every pew full, people standing in the back, children in their new clothes squirming like they'd been starched along with their shirts. I sang in the choir. We did "His Eye Is on the Sparrow," and when we hit the second verse, I could feel Hattie Pearl standing right behind me. My mama loved that hymn. She used to sing it while she cooked, her voice low and steady, and I swear if heaven has a kitchen — and it better — she is in it right now, singing that song and stirring a pot of something that smells like home.

I cooked for two days straight. Easter dinner at the Thunderbolt house is non-negotiable. Earl Jr. drove down from Atlanta with Carolyn and their two kids, Marcus and Jasmine. Patricia couldn't make it this year — Wayne had duty at the base in Jacksonville — but she sent a card and called. Denise and Robert and the kids were here. Kayla came home from Savannah State with a boy she says is "just a friend," but I saw the way she looked at him and I know what "just a friend" looks like in your twenties, and that is not it. I didn't say anything. I just made sure there was enough food for one more.

The menu: ham glazed with brown sugar, mustard, and cloves — Hattie Pearl's recipe, the one that's been in the wooden recipe box Earl made me since he gave it to me in 1986. Macaroni and cheese — not the kind from a box, Lord have mercy, the real kind, with sharp cheddar and a little bit of Gruyère that I splurge on once a year because Easter deserves it. Collard greens with smoked ham hock. Sweet potato casserole with the marshmallow top that the grandchildren fight over. Deviled eggs — three dozen, because Marcus alone can eat six. Cornbread. Rolls. And for dessert, coconut cake. Three layers, cream cheese frosting, fresh coconut I cracked myself because the bagged kind is an insult.

We sat fifteen at the table. I set the extra place for Earl's mama, who passed in 2009, and for Michael. There are always empty chairs at my table, but they are not empty. They are full of everyone who taught me how to do this and everyone who should still be here doing it with me.

After dinner, Earl Jr. and Marcus threw the football in the yard, and Jasmine and Monique did each other's nails on the porch, and Andre chased the cat, and Earl sat in his recliner with his shoes off and his eyes closed and a smile on his face that told me everything was worth it. Every early morning. Every sore knee. Every pot I've stirred and tray I've filled. Worth it for this. A house full of people I love, eating food I made with my hands.

I saved you a plate, baby. I always do.

Now go on and feed somebody.

After a table full of fifteen, with all that love and all those empty chairs that aren’t really empty, I needed something gentle for the days that followed—something that said “we were just together” without all the fanfare of a holiday spread. The Ham and Swiss Quiche is what I make with the leftover Easter ham, when the house has gone quiet again and it’s just me and Earl and the memory of everyone who was here. It’s simple and warm and it stretches the celebration just a little further, the way I like to do. Here’s how I make it.

Ham and Swiss Quiche

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 9-inch deep-dish pie crust, unbaked (store-bought or homemade)
• 1 1/2 cups cooked ham, diced (leftover Easter ham works perfectly)
• 1 cup Swiss cheese, shredded
• 1/4 cup Gruyère cheese, shredded
• 4 large eggs
• 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
• 1/2 cup whole milk
• 1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
• 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• Pinch of nutmeg
• 2 tablespoons fresh chives or green onion, thinly sliced (optional, for topping)

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 375°F. Place the unbaked pie crust in a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate and crimp the edges. Set aside on a rimmed baking sheet — this catches any drips so you are not scrubbing the oven later.
2. Pre-bake the crust. Line the crust with parchment paper and fill with pie weights or dried beans. Blind bake for 10 minutes, then remove the weights and parchment and bake another 5 minutes until the bottom just begins to look dry. This keeps the bottom from getting soggy.
3. Layer the filling. Scatter the diced ham evenly across the bottom of the warm crust. Top with the shredded Swiss and Gruyère, spreading it in an even layer.
4. Make the custard. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, heavy cream, and milk until smooth and well combined. Add the dry mustard, garlic powder, onion powder, black pepper, salt, and nutmeg. Whisk again until everything is incorporated.
5. Fill the quiche. Slowly pour the custard mixture over the ham and cheese. It will fill nearly to the rim — pour carefully and go slow near the top. Scatter the chives or green onion over the top if using.
6. Bake. Carefully slide the baking sheet into the oven. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, until the center is just barely set and a slight wobble remains in the very middle. The edges should be golden and puffed. If the crust edges are browning too fast, tent them loosely with foil.
7. Rest before slicing. Remove from the oven and let the quiche rest on the baking sheet for at least 15 minutes before cutting. This lets the custard finish setting so your slices come out clean and hold together at the table.
8. Serve. Slice into wedges and serve warm or at room temperature. It is equally good the next morning, cold from the refrigerator, standing over the sink in your robe.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 410 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 30g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 620mg