I’m a middle child. Complete with middle child syndrome—I never quite feel like I fit in, and I always have the creeping suspicion that I’m easily forgotten.

Growing up, I always knew that my parents loved me. And deep down I knew that they never played favorites, but still I tended to act like the victim and mope around that I was overlooked.

In hindsight, I know that it was probably impossible to be overlooked because out of the 3 children, I am by far the loudest. Most charismatic? Nope, that’s Adam. Most talented? I’d say that’s Jonathan. Most obnoxious? Yup, that’d be me. It’s how I dealt with my insecurities.

And if I ever was overlooked, it would have been my fault because I had the third floor bedroom all to myself, so I would hole myself up there for a pity party about how my parents liked my brothers more than me. And I did that a lot.

One thing that really sticks out to me was that my mom wouldn’t cook my favorite meal, which was a delicious cheese and ham quiche. She would occasionally make it until Jonathan was old enough to voice his opinion about it and determined that he didn’t like it.

No more quiche for Abby (cue pity party).

Actually, now I realize that my mom and I were probably only the two members of the family who liked quiche, and I’m sure that we would have had it more if the men in our family we’re such meat-and-potatoes guys. My mom wasn’t favoring Jonathan, she was being selfless. But what moody, hormonal, pre-teen girl would ever acknowledge that?

I remember thinking that I couldn’t wait until I had my own family and I’d make them quiche once a week. And then I married my very own meat-and-potatoes man and said goodbye to that dream. And to my beloved 3rd floor bedroom (but who says I still can’t have a pity party?).

Well, then I realized that being a wife has perks to being a daughter. You see, now I can just make whatever foods I want, and Dave can either eat them or starve. Funny how his taste buds have started to evolve (remember the brussels sprouts?).

I tried the same method using quiche the other night. And you know what? It worked!

Oh, but my taste buds have changed too (just like my confidence level), and a ham and cheese quiche didn’t sound appealing anymore. So I introduce to you…

Tomato Basil Quiche

1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tomatoes, sliced
1 tablespoon fresh basil, chopped 
3 eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cup mozzarella cheese, grated
1/2 cup milk
salt and pepper to taste
1 (9 inch) unbaked deep dish pie crust

Directions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Bake pie shell in preheated oven for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Sauté onion and garlic until soft.

Place 3/4 cup cheese in the bottom of the pie shell, then add the onions.

Arrange tomato slices in the dish and top with basil (I had fun doing this…too much fun)

Mix eggs and milk and salt/pepper and pour over the tomatoes

Top with the remaining cheese.

Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 degrees, and bake for about 20 minutes, or until quiche is puffed and slightly browned.

Dave ate it and gave it his "nod" of approval. Of course a simple nod wasn’t enough affirmation for me, a middle child. I sat and stared with anticipation as he took every single bite and asked "It’s good, right?" each time he swallowed. Poor guy. He needs a 3rd floor bedroom…not so much for a pity party, but for a place to eat his dinner in peace.

Where are you in the birth order in your family? Are you a text book example or do you break all the birth-order rules?

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