Onion soup is one of the most satisfying cold weather meals I can think of. It reminds of dark restaurants with the leatherette banquettes that you used to sit on as a kid. No fancy riffs here. This is as authentic as you can get. The most important ingredients are the stock and the onions (obviously). If you screw up either one it will fail. I was drilled in this method by my francophone masters in Scottsdale, Arizona. Could I just say right now that I hate Arizona. The choice of stock is up to you. My personal preference is for veal stock. But the standard preparations also include chicken stock, beef stock or a combination of two. Make the stock one day ahead [recipe to follow] Chill it in the refrigerator and do a final skim of the fat cap that has formed.
The next key step involves caramelizing the onions. Don’t rush this. It’s going to take at least 40 minutes to have them just right. I can’t emphasize that enough. After that it’s easy. You’ve probably seen this soup served with a big slab of Swiss cheese melting on top. You can do it that way, but don’t invite me over. Also this dish breaks a number of rules in the kashrut so don’t ignorantly serve it to your observant Jewish friends. I’m not saying this to be politically correct but rather because I think it’s important to understand that the food values (as well as allergies etc.) that your guests bring to the table are as important as you being master of the kitchen. Food should be nourishing and not a threat to either your faith or your mortal coil. As much as I would like to run over every vegan non-meatatarian with my car, I probably won’t be doing that soon. Okay, I promise.
carrots, cut in large pieces
white onion, cut in biggish pieces
handful fresh thyme on the branch
large sprig parsley
water to cover
salt and pepper
For the soup
veal stock (or your preference), which you made the day before
½ pounds sweet onions (Vidalia, Maui etc.) sliced as thin as you can get them sliced
1 or 2 shots
Salt and pepper to adjust flavor
best gruyere you can find; grate it
Slices of crusty, day old baguette, cut to fit individual bowls (possibly bias cut)
In This Recipe
Make the stock lovingly by browning the bones, carrot and onion in a roasting pan in a hot oven. If you like, paint them with some tomato paste.
When the bones etc. are nicely colored transfer all to a stock pot and cover with water.
Make a bouquet garnie by splitting the leak lengthwise, and cut off most of the top. With kitchen twine bind the herbs between the leak sections. Add to the stock components. Season.
Bring everything slowly to a simmer, skimming foam as needed. DO NOT BOIL or your stock will be cloudy.
Simmer the stock for 6 to 8 hours. Finally, line a chinois with cheesecloth and strain. Discard the bones and bouquet and stuff. If you are obsessive like me, take another piece of cheesecloth and strain a second time.
Refrigerate overnight. In the morning skim the fat cap off of what should be a nice looking gelatin.
Now make the soup
In the heavy pot in which you intend to finish your perfecto onion soup, melt some good butter over medium low heat. Add about 1 tbs olive oil. Add the onions and increase the heat slowly. You are going to have to stand over this and stir for awhile. Get used to it. You want to slowly sweat these down to develop a brown sugary color but not scorched. Take your time, the World can wait. Allow at least 40 minutes.
Meanwhile heat your stock. When you are happy with your onions add the hot stock and the cognac to that big pot. Bring to a simmer and taste for seasoning. Continue to simmer.
Now grate the best Gruyere cheese you can find. Top the bread slices with the cheese over. Ladle your perfection onion soup into individual bowls and top each with a crouton of bread. At this point you can stick the bowls under a broiler (I doubt that your kitchen comes with a restaurant salamander---if it does, you rock!) or just torch the cheese with a mini-torchy thing. I have one. Welcome to Purgatory. Your cheese is melted, your soup sings to heaven, you are ready!
Standup commis flâneur, and food historian. Pierino's background is in Italian and Spanish cooking but of late he's focused on frozen desserts. He is now finishing his cookbook, MALAVIDA! Can it get worse? Yes, it can. Visit the Malavida Brass Knuckle cooking page at Facebook and your posts are welcome there.