Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Cheater French Onion Soup

If I had to pick one soup to eat for the rest of my life...it'd probably be French onion.  (It might be tomato soup, but I think it'd depend on the day you ask.)  There is something fantastic about the simplicity of it: onions, cooked slowly until they turn a dark, caramel brown; a few simple seasonings; a rich broth; and of course, a toasted, melty, cheesy crust of bread on top sopping up the juices.

There's just one problem.  French onion soup takes a long time to make.  I mean, caramelized onions are no joke--you have to cook them over low heat for half an hour or forty-five minutes before you're even close to ready, and then you have to add everything else and give it some time to simmer together....By the time you're lapping up the dregs from the bottom of your soup crock you've been hungry (and smelling soup-makings) for hours.

Well, I offer you a simple solution: cheat.

That's right, I said it.  Cheat.

Last year I was perusing foodgawker and the like and came upon a wondrous claim: that, by employing the miracle machine that is the crock pot, one could make caramelized onions without any effort or waiting or constant attention.  Turns out, it's really simple.  Combine pre-caramelized onions with a little vegetable (or beef, if you're into that) broth, some thyme, salt, and pepper, and a cheesy toast-thing for dipping, and you're good to go.

Caramelized onions
6-8 large yellow onions
2 T butter

-Halve and peel the onions, then slice evenly in the direction of your choosing.  (I went cross-grain, but you could julienne, too, if you prefer.  Not sure what difference, if any, it would make.)
-Put the butter in the bottom of a large crock pot. Throw all the onions on top of the butter, until the crock pot is full.
-Cook on high for a few hours to get things going, then turn down the heat.  Cook until the onions are caramelized to your taste.*

Yield: about 6-7 cups.  I put a jarful in the fridge, used some immediately, and froze two containers' worth.

*Note: I foolishly started mine at around 6pm, so at around 9 they were just starting to turn pale beige.  I turned the heat to low and went to bed, and they were perfect the next morning.

Cheater French Onion Soup
serves 1
1/4 to 1/2 c. caramelized onions
1 tsp vegetable bouillon mix or 1 veg bouillon cube
S&P to taste
dash of dried thyme
1 to 1 1/2 c. water

Combine all ingredients in a pot.  Simmer until warmed through.  Serve with cheesy toast things. 
Ready to be packed for lunch: in the bottom, caramelized onions.
Top right, dried thyme; bottom right, bouillon paste.

Cheesy toast things
favorite cheese
bread

Put cheese on bread.  Broil until bubbly.
Added hot water, stirred it around, and
let it sit for a few minutes.  Instant soup!
***
Here's how I cheated even more.  I packed this for lunch--our cafeteria has a hot water dispenser, so I put my onions and seasonings into a jar, packed cheese and crackers to eat on the side, and added hot water when I was ready to eat.  No fuss, plus it's warm and comforting when the weather has finally decided it's fall outside and should therefore be drizzly and gray all day.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Walnut tart

First off, a disclaimer: I am from Missouri.  In Missouri, we call that the Midwest, but here in Wisconsin people say I'm from "the South," rolling it in their mouth a little to make it come out softer and with a drawl.  In retaliation (or maybe just reflexively), my words come out a li'l more slurred together, I start droppin' g's and syllables an' stringin' ever'thin' all togetha an' gen'rally livin' up t' th' expectations they already have 'bout the South.

Anyway.

The South has lots of great culinary traditions, things that I didn't realize were so embedded in my food culture until I moved away and found out that biscuits and gravy is not, in fact, a given at a breakfast joint, or that Waffle House is not on every highway exit, or that chicken-fried anything but chicken was confusing and needed to be explained.

One of my favorite dishes that make me think of home is pecan pie: ooey, gooey, cloyingly sweet with the generous crunch of pecans and a plain crust for a counterpoint.  Pecan pie has a poor cousin, though, that's equally delicious--the chess pie.  Chess pie is basically pecan pie without any pecans.  Sugar, eggs, butter, all baked together in a pastry crust until the custard is set.  I ran into a few variations of the chess pie via The Kitchn and quickly realized that this is probably the easiest pie to have in your arsenal.  Mix it up, throw it in a crust, bake: no need for slicing, dicing, fruit-pie thickeners, or lattice crusts.  Simple.


So, when I was craving something sweet and wanted to try out my new tart pan, here's what I did.  I used the basic recipe for chess pie here (and general ideas about pie crust from David Leibovitz here) and decided to ramp it up with some walnuts.  Then for good measure, I added chocolate chips.  Jus' cause, y'know?
Ooh, look!  A shiny new tart pan.  I brushed it with oil before
I started because it needed a li'l something to get it all seasoned this first time.

Walnut Tart
Crust
1c. flour
1-2t. sugar
pinch salt
4-8T. butter

Combine flour, sugar, and salt.
Cut the butter into chunks and work into the flour.  You can use a pastry cutter or a food processor or your fingers.
Add about 1/4 c. ice-cold water and mix.  Add cold water 1T at a time until the dough comes together and sticks to itself to form a ball. Cover and throw in the fridge to chill while you mix up the filling.

Mmm, walnut filling!
Filling
3/4c. brown sugar
2T. butter, softened
2 eggs
~1 c. walnuts, chopped

Cream the butter and sugar, then add eggs one at a time, mixing well between each egg.
Stir in the walnuts.

Now--make the tart:
Preheat the oven to 350F.
Pull the crust out and roll it out, or if like me you somehow didn't do it right and it's kind of crumbly, press it into the tart pan until the bottom and sides are covered evenly.
Operation: crust-in-pan is a success!
Pour the walnut mixture into the crust.
Sprinkle the chocolate chips over the top so they're dotted everywhere.
Are those...are those chocolate chips on top of that tart?  Why yes, yes they are!
Put the tart pan on a sheet pan so it's easy to pull out of the oven and bake for 35-40 minutes or until golden brown and puffed and set.
The chocolate chips kind of sink into the rest of the filling,
but don't worry!  They're there.
This is the hard part: let it cool before you eat it!  Or wait until it's partially cooled and cheat, like me.