Today, we explore the flavor spectrum of the quiche. Riveting, I know. But in the larger scheme of things, maybe it’s fitting. Quiche has a lot in common with today after all. July thirtieth comes but once a year, and few know the history of what it’s known for. It falls just between National Lip Stick Day and Harry Potter’s birthday, and in essence, it embodies a combination of the two, giving us a greater understanding of the quiche.

Because July thirtieth is boring. It can’t even be the birthday of one of the most disappointing protagonists in all of history. Yeah, looking at you, Harry. We know, you’re the chosen one—you tell us repeatedly, lounging in the common room eating chocolate frogs while Hermione does the research and saves the day. You’re the quiche of all wizards, the egg who lived. And you bore me.

Sorry, maybe I’m projecting my feelings about quiche onto Harry, but like trying to explain to a Chopped judge why you forgot an ingredient, it doesn’t matter. We all still think you’re incompetent trash.

However, we can learn from this as well. What made Harry Potter wonderful can also make your quiche a delight. No, no, young readers, I’m not talking about murdering gifted teenage sidekicks, chopping them to pleasantly uniform small bits, and adding them as a last-ditch effort to summon flavor into your quiche. That would be awful. We have too few teenagers worth saving, so we can’t go throwing them all into a pie crust. I’m saying look at the eggs as Harry and add so many other things to them that you finish knowing the eggs are still the focus of the dish but that they’re certainly the most disappointing part.

I was able to save one of my quiches by adding bacon, red chard (the Hermione of quiche ingredients), and red bell peppers. I realized too late that mushrooms would have been the perfect ingredient to go with everything else. Maybe mushrooms represent queer characters in this metaphor, but unlike J.K. Rowling, I was smart enough to realize that trying to add mushrooms in after the quiche came out of the oven was a pointless effort that would only highlight more that I failed to put mushrooms into my quiche in the first place.

So, I guess what I’m saying, really, is a quiche can save the world—if you manipulate it for six books, acting as the wise mentor who continually convinces the quiche to risk his life while withholding information and supporting a delusional, bigoted, friend-zoned creep who thinks obsession is somehow a form of love.

P.s. Use red chard it’s sooooo goooood!

Recipe for Quiche

6 Harry Potters

1 Cup of Shredded Luna Lovegood (Cheddar Cheese)

1 ½ Cups of Moaning Myrtle (Milk)

½ lb. of Buckbeak (Bacon)

Shredded Hermione (Red Chard)

1 Star Wars Plot and Protagonist (Frozen Pie Crust)

1. Poke crust with four-pronged wand, and then bake for 15–20 minutes at 375 until lightly browned.
2. Cook Buckbeak. Slice into bitesize bits.
3. Mix all ingredients together in a bowl.
4. Pour into Star Wars plot.
5. Bake at 375 for 20–50 mins. I have seriously had to always eyeball this for when the quiche is puffed up enough, has started to brown, and no longer wiggles. I have never had a quiche back as quickly as the recipe says.
6. Let cool for 15 mins.
7. Maybe eat it, but I won’t tell you how to live your life.

Great for breakfast all 5 days of the week. Not great for knowing how to appreciate an education at A SCHOOL OF MAGIC. Dear Lorde.