Tourtiere, a velvety-rich stew, mulled cider, smoked pulled pork, or anything out of a crock pot; these Winter months offer the highest quality comfort foods, and there’s a tradition in this household for kicking off such a season.  Of course, we love tackling our holiday baking in the early parts of December: Nanaimo bars, shortbread cookies, butter tarts, and peanut butter balls, delicious each in their own right.  But there’s one dish that truly warms up my soul more than any other; one dish, simple in design, consisting of only a few ingredients, but complex in flavour, texture and aroma.  It’s the meal I look forward to most once the weather remains consistently brisk.  I can source the ingredients all year round, but to prepare it any other time would feel to me a sin, perhaps because the anticipation is a significant part of the enjoyment.  I speak, of course, of the one and only: French Onion Soup.

Memories of this dish go far back in my life, as I recall special trips out to The Muddy Duck, a restaurant long-since closed in Milton, where I grew up.  We didn’t go out to eat often, but when we did, between Swiss Chalet and The Muddy Duck, the latter was always a treat because they were the only place I knew of that had this miraculously flavourful bowl of broth, bread and cheese.  Our whole family would order a bowl of the piping hot soup, and revelled at how my dad was able to slurp it up straight from the broiler, impervious to the scalding hot melted cheese that, to those unaware, would burn both the roof of the mouth and tongue at the same time, preventing you from enjoying any other flavours or tastes for at least the next 12-hours.  The rest of us would allow the bowl to cool a few minutes and then chip away at those crusty bits of cheese around the bowl before diving in and savouring each spoonful of rich, fulfilling broth.  There are few memories I have that can top this.

It’s a combination that really should not make sense: sweet onions, beef stock, a variety of Swiss cheeses: sure, that all adds up, but layering in a slice or two of thick-cut toast to sop up some of the liquid, turning it into a soggy, sponge-like texture that hides beneath the gooey melted fromage?  That doesn’t sound at all like it should be good, but somehow; by some divine culinary miracle: it works.

The process of bringing it all together is really quite simple: caramelizing copious amounts of thin-sliced onions over a low, slow heat, adding in red wine, beef stock and a few herbs, before scooping into bowls, topping with a slice of toasted bread and heaps of Swiss, Ementaler and Gruyere, then sliding under a broiler for a few minutes to melt and get just a touch of crispness around the edges, are not hard tasks, but it is a process that cannot be rushed.  The trick to any good French Onion is taking your time in ensuring the onions caramelize and don’t burn.  Keep your heat low and savour the aromas that come forth as you watch them transform from pungent slices of tear-inducing onions into a wonderfully sweet and rich base for what will be the kick off to a season full of comforting flavours and delights.

I write all of this because, of course, today marks the first batch of many that I will enjoy, and I couldn’t be more excited to get things going, and perhaps inspire a few others to do the same.  So, please, I encourage you to share: what are your comfort foods this time of year?  What memories do they conjure up and, who do you like to share the occasion with?  I’d love to be inspired!  Now, off to the kitchen…

Ingredients