French Onion Soup

I hate french onion soup. There aren't a lot of foods I really detest, but I've made two of them in the last week for this blog (the other to come next week), and french onion soup is one of them. I'd argue my rationale is valid- without going into detail, it involves a Panera, a group study session, food poisoning and missing the first exam of my college career.

Since then, I have never eaten french onion soup (and I lived in France for a year, got married there, spent my honeymoon and three other recent vacations there- my commitment to avoiding it is truly admirable, if I say so myself). Not only have I completely abstained from french onion soup for the last fourteen years, but I also have only eaten anything made with beef broth maybe a half dozen times in that span. My hatred runs deep.

Because I haven't had french onion soup in that long, I have literally never eaten it in front of Judson. But I realised I didn't want to make a giant batch and be stuck with it if he didn't like it either, so I asked him if he did: 'UGH, french onion soup,' he sneered. 'YOU DON'T LIKE IT EITHER? How did I never know this?!' I asked, shocked. He responded 'it's not that I don't like it, it's just a food that's not fancy but that people eat when they want to BE fancy, and that bugs me. Why? Don't you like it?'

And that's how we each found out something new about the person we've been married to for almost six years. On account of all this, I only made us two servings of it because, I mean, what if I couldn't handle it? It turns out that Judson quite likes the act of eating french onion soup, it's just the idea of it he can't handle, so he didn't mind either. And really, what's not to like here? Onions cooked low and slow until they're sweet and soft, a deep, flavourful broth and seriously, what other soup do you get to serve with the melted cheese right on it, already broiled to a crisp?

This version of the recipe is insanely easy- put your onions on and forget about them; add your broth and forget about it; when ready to eat, reheat under the broiler with a mozzarella crouton and you're golden- literally, that's the colour your toast should be. Best eaten with a glass of Pinot Noir and a film you've been dying to see (we went with Mindhorn) while you watch the snow swirl outside your window.

One note: my beef broth phobia runs deep, so I went on a limb and used the best quality I could get for this recipe- since it's literally half the ingredients of the soup, I'd recommend going top-notch with it. I didn't have any homemade, so I used the best quality stockpot I could get my hands on and upping the awesome factor with some fresh thyme, a glug of verjus (you can use wine, I just happened to have verjus to hand), and a generous pinch of brown sugar because I like the way it plays off the onions.

 

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. I don't think I can properly call myself a fan of french onion soup yet, but if anything is going to convince me, the simplicity of this recipe will be it.

One year ago: toll house marble squares
two years ago: double-chocolate layer cheesecake

The recipe:

French Onion Soup

The directions:

Chop onions into bite-size pieces.
Heat the butter in a large stockpot JUST until melted, then turn heat as low as possible.
Add onions, stir to coat with butter, and add the brown sugar if using.
Put the lid on the pot and allow to cook for 1 hour, checking occasionally to be sure they haven't dried out.
After one hour, add beef stock.
If using the thyme, bay leaf, and verjus/wine, add it now.
Stir well, and bring to a gentle simmer.
Allow to simmer for 10-15 minutes, until heated through.
Meanwhile, toast baguette slices until just crisped through but not yet browned.
Warm your grill (broiler in the US) and place an oven tray in the top 1/3 of oven.
Taste soup and adjust seasoning (ours needed a hint of brightness, so I added a spoonful more wine here).
Ladle the soup into two ovenproof bowls, place the toasted baguette on top of each bowl, and place the mozzarella on top of the bread.
Place the soup in the oven and toast until mozzarella is blistered and bubbly and soup is bubbling underneath.
Remove from oven, garnish with an extra thyme sprig if desired, and eat immediately.

Yields 2 generous servings.

the ingredients:

3 large onions
2 tbsp (28g) butter
Scant 2 cups (400ml) beef stock
2 slices from a baguette
2 slices mozzarella cheese

Optional: 1 tsp brown sugar, 1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves, 1 bay leaf, 2 tbsp verjus or wine.

Chicken Casserole

Recently a friend asked me if there were any recipes I had discovered in the Recipe Box so far that I've made more than once. I thought hard about it- there aren't a lot of recipes I've made more than once (always new things to try, you know?), so it's not really a question of whether I've found any good recipes. After considering, I realised that yes, I now have a chocolate fudge cake I adore, a pound cake I've accidentally made twice (ha!) and a banana caramel cake I can't get enough of.

And now I also have this chicken recipe, which I've already made three times (and haven't even told you about it until now! I know!). The first time, I made this for myself when Judson was out of town for work and loved it so much I re-made it the day he got back so he could enjoy it too. The third time was this week when, suffering from the jetlag that comes from visiting Southeast Asia and then returning to Europe, and the culture shock that comes from hanging out in 38 degree-Celsius weather drinking out of coconuts for two weeks and then returning to a city in the throes of Christmas preparations, I couldn't think of a better way to warm our freezing-cold flat up.

I really thought I was in for another 'chicken in chicken sauce' type of event when I started this (which is why I made it when poor Judson was out of town), but it hasn't let me down yet, and I daresay you'll have the same results.* This recipe lends itself to the simple: you can make it with only the three required ingredients and it will be amazing, or you can add in whatever you have to hand, like half an onion, a leek or two, a rib of celery, some chopped bacon lardons or even a handful of roasted chestnuts. I think you could even swap the rice for quinoa for a whole-grain improvement, but I haven't tried it yet.

*Read the original recipe and you'll see why- it was written on a torn-off piece of receipt paper and it looks like a haiku written by someone who doesn't understand syllables:

cream celery or chicken SOUP
water & extra
brown on 1 sine
on top of rice
pipert 1 hr
salt

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. No matter how you make it, this is a cosy, one-pan dish that will warm up your kitchen and have your entire house smelling like a home in no time. The best part? The leftovers heat up like a dream, so you're off dinner duty tomorrow night, too. It's not a classy recipe, but when you're jetlagged, cold, or just ready for an easy, warming dinner, this will definitely do the trick.

One year ago: Crazy Crust Apple Pie
two years ago: Chocolate Chiffon Cake

the recipe:

Chicken Casserole

the directions:

Preheat oven to 190C/375F.
Heat oil in an oven-proof skillet over medium heat.
Add chicken thighs, face down, and brown for 5 minutes until golden (more browning will occur in oven).
Flip over and cook for an additional 5 minutes.
Check one thigh for doneness by poking into thickest part and checking the colour of the juices. If juice is still red, continue browning for an additional 3-5 minutes (chicken should be JUST done when you remove it).
Remove chicken from pan, drain all but 1 tbsp of liquid and spoon rice evenly into the pan.
Pour soup over rice, then any additional ingredients you're adding, finishing by adding chicken to the pan last.
Pop into preheated oven and bake 15-20 minutes or until heated through and well-browned.

the ingredients:

2 tbsp oil
1 package chicken thighs (as many as will fit in your pan)
3 cups rice, cooked
1 can or 2 cups homemade cream of chicken or cream of celery soup

optional: lardons, leeks, onion, chestnuts, celery, garlic cloves, or anything else in your fridge that needs to be used up.

Ribs in Tomato Barbecue Sauce

Summer in Scotland is practically here and while that does mean that I am still wearing my heavy coat to work, haven’t yet given up my boots for the season and still have to dress Holtzmann in her tiny coat/cape at least once a week before we go out, it ALSO means that the days are longer (it’s still light at 9:30pm and we still have 6 more weeks of lengthening days ahead of us!), the sun is brighter and everything is finally green.

This is also the first summer that we’ve had access to the garden behind our flat (not for any good reason except that no one in our building uses it and we didn’t want to be the ones to dislodge Spidertown, the Edinburgh suburb that had built up in front of the doorway), and let me tell you- it’s an awesome garden. I take it for granted because I spend a lot (read: all) of my mornings out there trying to coax an alternately sleepy or rambunctious Holtzmann into doing her- ahem- business, but I stopped to think about it this week and that garden is the stuff dreams are made of. Or, at least, the stuffmy dreams were made of when I was a kid living in the sticky Florida heat and spending all my time reading about faraway European gardens. I mean, seriously, this garden has got it all: a wrought-iron fence, ivy and roses climbing up the crumbling stone wall, daffodils and tulips tangled with brambles and hydrangeas and a single tree, nearly three stories tall, planted in the perfect spot to block the view into the Italian restaurant’s kitchen that also shares a window into the garden with us.

So of course, with new and exciting access to the garden, we’re planning all kinds of cookouts down there in the coming months. It’s the perfect spot to bring a glass of wine and an excited puppy at the end of a long day, and soon we hope to host our first garden dinner party… though we might have to provide blankets for our guests, as Scottish nights still leave a little to be desired.

But if you’re lucky enough to live somewhere warm, where the nights aren’t yet too hot to be outside and the days aren’t yet demanding you stay in the AC, then these are the perfect thing to make outside on a grill (and if, like me, you do live in the frigid north, you can make these just as tasty in your very own kitchen). Not too sweet, not too tangy, this sauce is the perfect middle-of-the-road barbecue sauce sure to please everyone you make it for, even if they’re from Scotland and don’t know the difference between Eastern & Western North Carolina style barbecue sauce. (Just make sure you really like the people you invite over to eat these ribs with you, because you’re all going to be a mess afterward).

Some notes, of course:

I can't get two of the five ingredients of this sauce recipe, so I improvised with what I can get my hands on, and that's what is listed in my notes below. If you're stateside, you can follow the ingredients as listed in the image of the recipe.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. Still the best barbecue sauce I’ve made from the recipe box, but I have strong barbecue standards, people.

Barbecue Sauces, Previously: Spicy-Sweet Barbecue Sauce and Simple Barbecue Sauce

One year ago: Smoked Haddock Fish Pie
Two years ago: Diva cake

the recipe:

Tomato Barbecue Sauce

the directions:

Preheat oven to 200C/400F.
Brush oil over foil large enough to completely enclose ribs.
Salt and pepper ribs generously on both sides, then seal foil packet around them and cook until almost done, approximately 15 minutes, depending on your oven.
While ribs are cooking, mix together remaining ingredients in a small saucepan and heat to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking.
Reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 5 minutes or until sauce is very sticky and onions are tender.
When ribs are almost done, open foil packets and brush ribs generously with sauce.
Allow to finish cooking, then brush with additional sauce before serving, preferably with corn on the cob and a fresh green salad.

the ingredients:

2 lbs ribs
Vegetable oil for brushing
1/3 c black treacle
1/3 c golden syrup
1/3 c scant brown sauce
1 tbsp vinegar
1 c tomato passata
¼ c onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
Salt to taste