French Onion Soup Adventure

I was a weird little kid, as anyone who knew me growing up could tell you. For my birthday, the biggest treat was going to a restaurant downtown, now long gone, and having the French onion soup.

Carbur’s was all dark wood and 1900s ephemera. Tabletops featured old newspaper drawings of ladies with Edwardian hair and dapper men riding penny farthings. For a PBS Mystery-obsessed tween, the place was bliss. At cake time, the servers brought it over while playing assorted musical instruments.

But the best part was when the small brown earthenware pot covered in a thick crust of melted cheese arrived. Letting the broiling broth cool enough to eat safely felt like it took forever.

At home, Mom got us soup bowls with long handles that were perfect for experimental after-school snacks. Friends and I put canned soup in the bowls, added toast and cheese, and microwaved the whole thing. Fun, but not even close to Carbur’s.

You’d think that Adult Me could produce significantly better results from the get-go. Not exactly.

One problem is patience. My fear of burning food means that I tend to take it off the heat too soon. Great French onion soup demands an almost mythical state of caramelization. Another issue is stirring. What does “occasionally” even mean?

The soup base is also a wildcard. Most beef broth sold in U.S. grocery stores hardly contains any beef. Daniel Gritzer of Serious Eats suggests homemade chicken stock instead. During cold snaps, Guillaume takes carcasses from past roasts out of our freezer, hauls out the gigantic oven-safe metal pot, and makes Michael Rulhman’s overnight turkey stock. It’s reliably good.

For more than a year, I struggled to get this soup right. Pound after pound of sliced raw onions put everyone in tears. Even the cat blinked at me like, “Why?”

Then a breakthrough happened while watching “The Chef Show” on Netflix. “Onion soup is probably the most simplest soup there is that really requires technique,” chef Roy Choi said. He advised allowing the onions to make their own jam. Go slow to get the right texture. He also used a metal pot, not a Dutch oven, which I think makes a big difference for browning.

I tried adjusting my recipe — and my attitude. Easy does it. Who’s worried about this soup failing yet again? *Sips wine* Not this girl! And, for the first time, I produced a ridiculously good result.

My French onion soup below is based on several recipes, including one from Epicurious, and incorporates Choi’s advice. At some point in this process I apologized to Guillaume for all the not-quite-perfect soup, and he responded that he didn’t mind. There are worse things to try to perfect. This particular version, though, he called the best one he’d ever had.

French Onion Soup
Makes 4 servings

1 stick unsalted butter
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil plus more for the bread
3 lbs. yellow onions
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 Tbsp. flour
1 bay leaf
Pinch of dried thyme, ground OR a couple fresh sprigs
1 C. white wine
¼ C. sherry
2 quarts poultry stock or homemade beef stock
1 baguette or small French boule, sliced
8 oz. Gruyère cheese, grated
A sprinkle of freshly grated Parmesan, to serve (optional)

Note: The soup base can be made and refrigerated for up to three days in advance. For leftovers, store the soup separately from the bread and cheese, and then do the toasting and broiling prior to serving.

Cut the ends off the onions, halve each one lengthwise, remove the peels, and slice them thinly to 1/8 inch either with a sharp knife or on a mandoline. Protect your hands! I wear a metallic glove and use the plastic safety guide with the mandoline.

In a large metal pot, heat several tablespoons of olive oil over medium-low heat (level 3, full burner, on a programmable stovetop). Add the onions and cook until they really start to soften, about 10 minutes. Season with 1 teaspoon salt and ½ teaspoon of freshly ground pepper, and stir to incorporate. After it cooks down a bit more, around 5 minutes, add around 4 tablespoons of unsalted butter.

Continue to cook on medium-low heat, stirring intermittently — i.e. whenever you happen to think about it — for another 50 minutes or so. You want the onions to get nice and tender and jammy. You also want them to get a deep dark brown fond on the bottom. Be patient, but begin paying more attention near the end.

Add a bay leaf and a thyme sprig or pinch of the ground dried thyme. Sprinkle in about 1 tablespoon of flour and stir it into the onions. Cook for a couple more minutes or so.

Raise the heat to medium-high. Add the wine, and start scraping the dark fond off the bottom. Add the sherry, and keep scraping. Let the alcohol reduce a little bit for several minutes, stirring continuously. You want the raw alcohol smell to go away before moving on to the next step.

Add the broth. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook, uncovered, until broth is thickened, around 20 minutes.

Remove from the heat, take out the bay leaf (and fresh thyme sprigs if using), and add the rest of the stick of butter. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding more salt and cracked black pepper as needed. I found that more pepper was better.

Put several small baguette slices — or one boule slice for every serving — on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with coarse salt. Toast them in the oven under the broiler until crisp and dry but not browned, about 1 minute per side.

Place ramekins or ovensafe bowls on a rimmed baking sheet, add toast to each one, and ladle in the hot soup.

Divide the grated Gruyère among the servings, about 2 ounces for each one, covering the bread and soup. Sprinkle each one with a little freshly grated Parmesan, if desired. Carefully transfer the baking sheet to the oven and broil until the cheese is completely melted and bubbling, 4 to 8 minutes. Don’t be scared to let it get nice and brown.