Soupe a L'Oignon

The kitchen smells incredible now, even though both of our eyes were watering quite a bit as a really large onion was being chopped. I'm on page 43 - and the onions are browning in butter. They're slowly sweetening and softening - kind of like when I left law practice.

Two quarts of beef stock were $2 each. The onion was $1.59, and when it was sliced it came to exactly the five cups that I needed for the soup. There is a baguette, on top of which will go a mountain of real gruyere from Switzerland. I hope it's worth it - it was $13! But real is always better than fake, right?

Carmelizing is where an ingredient's natural sugars come out, browning them. It happens with meat, but is MAGICAL with onions. I'm 20 minutes into this soup, and the onions are now brown. Stiring, the sticky onions lift off the pan, marrying with the butter.

Then it's time to add the stock. I'm reading out loud from the cookbook "add boiling stock to the onions" and mutter out loud - "sorry Julia" it's going in cold". From the living room comes the voice "Julia says boiling, so it should be boiling. Scientific workability, remember?".

OK, I'll meet Julia in the middle and microwave the stock so it's hot. While it's counting down, I realize that cold stock would halt the cooking process, and simmering of the onions. OK, fine. In goes a half a cup of wine (the exact amount left in my fridge) and as the steam wafts over the pot, I inhale the alcohol evapourating...what cooks call the "angel's share".

I open the gruyere - and am immediately hit with the smell of something less than magical. In fact, my immediate reacion is "yuck". I should like it! It's the natural match! But I don't want to ruin my soup even though Bill assures me that the tang will probably balance out with the sweetness of the onions. But mine gets garnished with a 2 year old cheddar instead.

This onion soup was a really solid dish, with a baguette slice browned in butter, topped with grated cheese. The soft onions merge with the doughy bread, and the occasional cheesy crisp bite.

This dish made for a perfect Sunday evening. Now, laundry.