This is a recipe from my oldest sister, Alicia, who is not only a lovely and talented artist and photographer, but am amazing cook. She got this recipe from her seventh grade French teacher, Mme. Denton. It was all very exotic back in the day (a long, long time ago…); you know, there was beer in there! And some kind of cheese and bread *in* the soup! Hey, I was eight. This was earth-shattering stuff.
Nowadays, there’s a lot of talk about cooking onions in the oven rather than on the stovetop (don’t I sound like some kind of old-timer, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, muttering about “a lot of talk?”). They say it’s easier because you don’t have to stir them, but that’s part of the joy of making this soup, I think. It’s the kind of soup you must tend to, not in a painstaking way, but in a puttering about the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, nibbling on pieces of baguette and gruyère, occasionally stirring the onions in the pot kind of way. There’s something to be said for soup that’s tended to and nurtured gently on its way. It’s the whole cozy thing, which is one of the reasons I love to cook. Having said that, I do have another French onion soup recipe (coming, coming) that does cook the onions in the oven and it’s rather delicious. But it’s hardly low maintenance. Either way, whether you choose the stovetop or the oven, just please make this soup.
The onions, cooked very slowly in a pool of butter develop a lovely sweet and rich flavor. The beer adds a nice nutty and slightly bitter contrast to the sweetness of the onions. Add the baguette and gruyère and let it get all melty and gooey under the broiler and, well, there’s really nothing quite as satisfying. I like to serve this with a very simply dressed green salad and a robust cabernet sauvignon or malbec.
NOTE:
The original recipe calls for half beef stock and half chicken stock, but I use all vegetable stock, natch. I must confess that in my meat-cooking days, I used to use veal stock, which I got from the chef at the Old Homestead, a venerable steakhouse over on Hudson in the meatpacking district — before there was a meatpacking district, I might add (eek, that makes me really old). One day when I couldn’t find any good stock at Chelsea Market, I wandered in there and the chef actually GAVE me a tub of crazy-rich-almost-to-the-point-of-jelly veal stock. It really was marvelous. But those days are over and it’s quite alright, really. This soup is delicious with whatever stock you use.
Day 2 lazy version: cheese melted/bread on the side
French Onion Soup
1/2 stick (1/4 cup)/57 grams unsalted butter (or if you only have salted, just omit the salt below)
2 pounds (or about 4 medium) onions, peeled, then thinly sliced into rings
3 sprigs fresh thyme (couldn’t find it, so went with a tsp of dried)
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 bottle of a good dark beer (like Brooklyn Brown or one of those kooky mini-keg cans of Guinness)
6 cups vegetable stock
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Baguette, cut into 1/2″ thick slices, on the diagonal
8 ounces Gruyère, grated
2 tablespoons, Parmesan, finely grated
Melt butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven over moderate heat. Separate the onion rings with your fingers into the pan, add the thyme and salt and cook uncovered, stirring regularly, for about 45 minutes. You want the onions to get very soft, but not turn brown. Add beer and cook covered for 5 minutes, followed by the stock, bay leaves and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer covered for another 30 minutes or so. Test for seasoning (keeping in mind you will add cheese that can be salty).
In the meantime, cut the bread and place on a sheet pan in a preheated oven set at 350ºF/180ºC. Turn once and cook until toasted and dry (about 15 minutes).
To serve the soup, ladle the soup into soup bowls (preferably something like this* — you can also do one giant one like this, but you’ll probably end up fighting over who gets which hunk of cheesy bread), place a slice or two of the dried bread (or croûte, which is the technical, sexier term) on top and cover with a healthy smattering of gruyère and a soupçon (sorry) of the Parmesan.
Stick the bowls under the broiler (or if you have a broiler in your oven, put them in a shallow pan and put that under the broiler) for a minute or two. You want the cheese to melt and start to turn a little brown.
NOTE: Most of us NYers and BsAsers have the teeny broiler thing under the oven, so sometimes a pan and the bowls won’t fit. So just stick the bowls in and be careful when you take them out! If your bowls won’t fit in either, you can do the bread and cheese on a small flat pan and then place them in the bowls after. Not to worry. Cheese melted onto bread any way possible is all that matters.
Bon appétit!
* I have these bowls at home, but as you can see from the photos, I have no proper substitute. Don’t laugh! It’s sad. And in case you’re just joining us, see this post. I’m limited, people. Limited. Sigh.
