Introduction of Ricotta Spinach Quiche

Ever caught yerself starin’ at wilted spinach and half-empty ricotta tub, wondering if… well, maybe there’s somethin’ magnificent waitin’ to happen? Me too, friend. Back in the summer of 2019—no wait, 2018—I stumbled upon my signature “spinach folding revelation” (more on that controversial technique later) while attempting to salvage leftover party ingredients at my cousin’s lakehouse. The combination of fresh spinach leaves partnered with creamy ricotta in a buttery shell creates what I call a “comfort-crust experience” unlike any store-bought quiche could dream of achieving.

My ricotta spinach quiche recipe evolved from disastrous beginnings and countless eggy failures, but I’ll bet my favorite whisk it’ll become your go-to dinner solution by next Tuesday. Probably.

The Not-So-Straight Path to Quiche Perfection

Lemme start by saying something completely random—I absolutely loathe metal measuring spoons that clang against each other in drawers! Eventually, this relates to my ricotta spinach quiche journey, I promise.

My first attempt at creating this ricotta spinach quiche happened when I was trying to impress Morgan (you know Morgan—everyone’s got a Morgan), and I accidentally drop-kicked the egg carton across the kitchen floor. Three survived. I wept. Then improvised with extra ricotta. That happy accident led to the creamier version I make today.

Danny taught me to pre-wilt spinach using the “hot-pan hover” (just hovering spinach 3 inches above a scorching pan until it surrenders). Kelly insisted ricotta needed “sweet-talking” before mixing (literally whispering compliments to it—ridiculous but I still do it when nobody’s looking). Both techniques somehow made their way into this recipe.

I’ve adapted this quiche in mountain cabins (altitude makes things weird), beach rentals with unreliable ovens (the Florida disaster of ’21), and once in a kitchen the size of a postage stamp while visiting my sister in Brooklyn. Each disaster taught me something new about how ricotta spinach quiche recipe fundamentals can bend without breaking.

Speaking of breaking, remember that time I tried using a plastic colander to drain spinach and it melted? (That’s why I suggest the spine-dry technique instead!)

Gatherings (Ingredients)

1 unbaked pie crust (store-bought works, but homemade gives you bragging rights)—I sometimes add a pinch of nutmeg to the crust itself!
12 oz fresh spinach (approximately 3 generous Thompson-handfuls)—the pre-washed stuff is fine, I won’t judge
1¼ cups whole-milk ricotta, room temperature and sweet-talked for at least 5 minutes
⅔ cup heavy cream—or what I call a “splash and a half” if you’re feeling rebellious
4 large-ish eggs (5 if they’re looking particularly small or judgmental)
⅓ cup shredded Gruyère—though any semi-hard cheese works in a pinch
2 garlic cloves, micro-minced (smaller than minced, larger than crushed)
½ sweet onion, sautéed until it reaches “second transparency”
1 dollop mustard (approximately 2 teaspoons, but who measures mustard?)
Salt & black pepper to taste (be generous with both, cowards!)
Pinch of nutmeg—literally what sticks to your fingertip after one dive into the spice jar

The Assembly Process (Directions)

Step First: Preheat your oven to 375°F (or 370°F if your oven runs hot like mine does). While that’s happening, stab your pie crust all over with a fork—I call this “encouraging ventilation” rather than docking because it sounds fancier.

Step B: Now for the spinach spine-drying technique. Rinse your spinach if it’s not pre-washed, then heat a large skillet over medium-high heat WITHOUT any oil. Add spinach and stir frantically for about 40 seconds or until it looks like it just received terrible news. Immediately transfer to a clean kitchen towel (not your favorite one—this WILL stain), wrap it up like a burrito, and squeeze until your forearms burn. You want this spinach DRY AS BONES, people! When done right, you’ll have roughly a baseball-sized amount of spinach that weighs practically nothing.

3rd Step: In a mixing bowl that’s larger than you initially think you need, sweet-talk your ricotta before adding it (I usually mumble “you’re the creamiest cheese in the refrigerator” three times). Then beat in eggs one at a time with a wooden spoon—never metal! Metal spoons give ricotta performance anxiety. I learned this the hard way during the Christmas Quiche Incident of 2020.

Step Four-ish: Envelop in the cream, chopped spinach, cheeses, and seasonings. Fold gently—actually, no, not gently. Give it seven decisive stirs, changing direction on stir four. This prevents stringy texture and creates what I call “cloud pockets.”

The Fifth Movement: Pour this gorgeous mixture into your stabbed pie shell. If you’ve done the spine-drying properly, there’s no danger of a soggy bottom. If you skipped that step… well, I hope you enjoy soup-pie.

Sixth: Bake for 45-50 minutes, though in reality it’s done when the center jiggles like off-brand Jell-O rather than moving like wave. You’ll know. Trust your quiche intuition—actually, don’t, that’s how I ruined Thanksgiving 2017. Instead, look for golden edges and that Jell-O jiggle.

Last but Crucial: Let it rest for AT LEAST 12 minutes before cutting. I know you want to dive in—I’ve burned my mouth countless times from impatience—but the ricotta spinach quiche needs to settle into itself. Check out my overnight breakfast strata if you’re too hungry to wait!

Wisdom Nuggets (Recipe Notes & Tips)

• Contrary to popular belief, washing mushrooms DOES NOT make them waterlogged. I still don’t recommend adding them to this ricotta spinach quiche though—they release too much liquid and you’ll end up with quiche soup. Learn from my sister’s wedding shower catastrophe.

• My infamous “Vertical Layering” technique: If you’re feeling ambitious, try standing your spinach vertically in the ricotta mixture before baking. It creates these beautiful streaks of green when sliced. Chef Madeleine (my imaginary French instructor) taught me this while I was hallucinating from food poisoning after eating questionable street tacos.

• NEVER pre-bake the crust for this particular quiche. The moisture from the ricotta spinach mixture actually helps it bake perfectly from raw. Most recipes will tell you to blind bake—they’re all wrong.

• Storage wisdom: This quiche actually tastes better on day two after the flavors have had a chance to get acquainted. Store uncovered in the refrigerator to maintain crust integrity. Learn more about proper food storage techniques.

• If your ricotta seems watery, don’t drain it! Instead, add 1 Tbsp of flour directly to the mixture. Works better than draining and maintains creaminess.

Crucial Equipment

SILICONE SPINE-DRYER ★★★★★
My most treasured kitchen tool, essentially a ridged silicone mat that extracts water from greens.
I accidentally discovered its spinach-drying abilities when I used it as an emergency pot holder in 2016.

GRANDFATHER’S EGG WHISK ★★★★★
A discontinued hand whisk with uneven tines that somehow incorporates air better than modern versions.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H2567ZX

HEAT-DISTRIBUTING STONE ★★★★★
Basically a pizza stone, but I refuse to call it that because it’s multifunctional.
Prevents soggy bottoms on all quiches when placed on the rack below your baking dish.

Seven Ways to Dinner (Variations)

Mediterranean Madness: Add kalamata olives, sun-dried tomatoes, and feta instead of Gruyère. The saltiness creates what I call a “flavor explosion trifecta” that’s particularly excellent when eating by candlelight during power outages.
Breakfast-for-Dinner Flip: Add crispy bacon bits and replace one egg with two egg whites for a lighter texture. My Norwegian friends call this “morgenmiddag” which I’m pretty sure I made up, but it sounds authentic.
Mushroom Forest: Despite my earlier warnings, if you must add mushrooms, sauté them until they’ve released ALL their liquid, then continue cooking until they’ve reabsorbed about half of it back. This creates an umami ricotta spinach quiche that pairs beautifully with my red wine reduction sauce.

The One Question Everyone Gets Wrong

Q: Why does my ricotta spinach quiche always crack on top?

A: Forget what you’ve heard about water baths and gentle temperatures. The real culprit is over-whisking, which creates a protein structure too rigid to expand properly during baking. I practice what I call “respect whisking”—stopping the moment the ingredients look uncomfortably combined, like awkward strangers at a dinner party who don’t really want to talk but are being polite. This creates a tender, crack-free top with what I call “velvet doming” during baking. My cousin Lucas insisted this wasn’t real until I made him two identical quiches, one over-whisked, one respect-whisked. He still brings it up at Thanksgiving.

Final Thoughts & Future Quiche Dreams

This ricotta spinach quiche recipe has gotten me through breakups, job interviews (pre-interview breakfast of champions), and that weird phase where I thought I could start a food blog called “Quiche Me If You Can.” The versatility makes it perfect for any dinner situation where you need to impress without sweating through your shirt.

What will YOUR version taste like? Will you respect-whisk properly? Could you discover an eighth way to make it that I haven’t thought of yet?

I’m currently working on a summer variant using preserved lemons and ricotta that’s been infused with basil overnight. The preliminary tests have been—well, let’s just say my neighbors no longer accept “experimental quiche deliveries.”

Remember: a quiche is just a custard that got dressed up for a fancy occasion. Treat it accordingly.

Happy spine-drying!

Chef MoonBeam (3-time finalist in the Entirely Made Up Northeast Regional Quiche-Off)