French Onion Soup, Old School Edition

Last week over lunch at Café Midi my sister was tempted to order the French onion soup. It isn’t their most winning menu item, so I suggested that instead we try making our own for dinner on Saturday night (taking a page out of Julia Child and a break from the week of pork – more on that later).

We went to Surfas where we picked up some Gruyère—a cheese so extravagant that I was compelled to rip the $23 price tag off it before my husband came home, only to blurt out a confession moments after he walked in the door because (a) I went to Catholic school and can’t stand the guilt and (b) am the world’s worst liar. Oh and (c) it’s not nice to lie to your husband, for better or for worse, etc!

This soup’s superb complexity comes from a couple hours of slow-cooking onions and simmering. And of course the quality of ingredients. I used vermouth instead of white wine and equal parts veal stock and beef stock for added richness, also picked up at Surfas. I love using vermouth; it gives that nostalgic note that reminds me of my grandmother’s best dishes, which I’m guessing relied heavily on Julia.

And then, the best part: that nutty, slightly sweet Gruyere that I could (and did) eat all on its own. Here’s Julia’s recipe. Follow it to the letter of the law and you seriously won’t believe that something this good could come from a home kitchen.

Soupe à l’Oignon Gratinée

Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, by Julia Child

For 6 to 8 servings [Foodinista's note: this serves more like 4 as a main course]

The onions for an onion soup need a long, slow cooking in butter and oil, then a long, slow simmering in stock for them to develop the deep, rich flavor which characterizes a perfect brew. You should therefore count on 2 1/2 hours at least from start to finish. Though the preliminary cooking in butter requires some watching, the actual simmering can proceed almost unattended.

1 1/2 pounds or about 5 cups of thinly sliced yellow onions, plus 1 tablespoon grated onion

3 tablespoons butter

1 tablespoon oil [Foodinista note: used olive oil]

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon sugar (helps the onions to brown)

3 tablespoons flour

2 quarts boiling brown stock [Foodinista note: used 1/2 veal stock + 1/2 beef stock]

1/2 cup dry white wine or dry white vermouth [Foodinista note: used dry vermouth]

Salt and pepper to taste

3 tablespoons cognac

12 to 16 slices French baguette cut 3/4- to 1-inch thick

2 ounces Swiss cheese cut into very thin slivers + 1 1/2 cups grated Swiss cheese

Cook the sliced onions slowly over low heat with the butter and oil in a heavy-bottomed, covered saucepan for 15 minutes.

Uncover, raise heat to moderate, and stir in the salt and sugar. Cook for 30 to 40 minutes stirring frequently, until the onions have turned an even, deep, golden brown. Sprinkle in the flour and stir for 3 minutes.

Remove from heat, and blend in boiling stock. Add wine or vermouth, and season to taste. Simmer partially covered for 30 to 40 minutes or more, skimming occasionally. Correct seasoning. Add cognac, 1 tablespoon grated onions, and 2 ounces cheese slivers.

While soup is simmering, make croutons by placing bread in one layer in a roasting pan and bake in a preheated 325-degree oven for about half an hour, until it is thoroughly dried out and lightly browned. Halfway through baking, brush with olive oil. After baking, each piece may be rubbed with garlic.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Pour soup into ramekins or oven-proof bowls. Float rounds of toasted bread on top, and sprinkle grated cheese over.

Bake for 20 minutes, then for a minute or two under broiler to brown the top lightly. Serve immediately with a glass of red Burgundy. We went with a 2007 Drouhin Côtes-du-Nuits Villages at a relatively cheerful $19.99.

Ten Years Ago Today…

…I packed into a ‘93 Infiniti and moved from a beautiful Russian Hill apartment overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco into The Oakwood corporate housing—which featured a mirrored murphy bed and was teeming with child talent rehearsing songs from Annie in the common walkways—to take a job as a style editor at the Los Angeles Times Magazine. Things were different then. For starters, there was a Los Angeles Times Magazine. And like many of us raised in the Bay Area, I had preconceived notions about L.A., almost all of which, I’m happy to say, were wrong. I never imagined I’d still be here a decade later, nor that after 10 years I couldn’t imagine myself living anywhere else (despite occasional fantasies of a swank pad in Belgravia or a modest casa on Lake Como; a girl can dream). Here is a short list of reasons why you’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming from the City of Angels:

1. Langer’s. The #19 sandwich and a celery soda. Enough said.

Langer's #19

2. The Beverly Hills Hotel. If you need a reason to fall in love with The Pink Palace all over again, rent one of my all-time favorite movies, California Suite. It is every bit as relevant 31 years later, from driving to the Valley for the best sushi to capturing LA at its elegant if absurd best. If you need another reason, rent either Designing Woman with Gregory Peck and Lauren Bacall or Robert Evans’ The Kid Stays in the Picture for awesome scenes at the city’s best hotel pool. I used to go there on Monday nights for a drink and to listen to my former neighbor play piano in the Polo Lounge. More recently, it’s where I got my husband’s wedding band in the little Asprey shop tucked downstairs.

3. Lonnie Bishop / Neiman Marcus Shoe Salon, Beverly Hills. Lonnie has a preternatural ability to catalog one’s entire shoe collection, and never suggests a shoe resembling anything you already own.

4. Loteria. The best Mexican restaurant in LA prides itself on not offering a combo plate. Sidle up to the taco bar on a Friday night at the Farmer’s Market location and try any of number of tempting tacos and sauces , or head into the newer Hollywood location where you can order a first-rate margarita and my very favorite spicy Tacos de Camaron with avocado and crema. Amazing. The Chicarron de Queso (griddle-toasted cheese) is pretty epic, too.

5. The neighborhood farmers markets. Pretty much every neighborhood has a weekly, year-round farmer’s market that reflects the distinct personality of the neighborhood. You can’t beat the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market, and when I’m training with my running group on Saturday mornings out at the beach, I always stop by after before hitting Santa Monica Seafood. But most weekends, you’ll find us at our neighborhood Larchmont Farmer’s Market (where a gent plays reggae for the kids) unless we need something a little harder to find, in which case Hollywood Farmer’s Market is the bomb.

Multi-hued cauliflower at the Larchmont Farmer's Market

6. The Original Farmer’s Market. The Farmer’s Market has stood at Third and Fairfax for 75 years. It is also where my father, that rare breed of native born-and-bred Angeleno, went as a kid. In addition to the tacos at Loteria, I am crazy about the buttery hamburger buns at Thee’s Bakery and the alpha and omega of hamburger meat, Nancy’s Blend at Huntington Meats.

7. Rodeo Drive Chandeliers. During December, a million dollars worth of chandeliers light up Rodeo Drive. Pure magic.

8. Chris Burden’s “Urban Lights.” I think there is little more beautiful than the dramatic installation of 200 vintage Southern California street lamps in front of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Day or night, they’re spectacular. I make a point of driving home via Wilshire at night just to see them.

Urban Lights © Museum Associates / LACMA

9. Yang Chow. I don’t pretend that this is the best Chinese food in LA, but it is my favorite. Every year we get tickets to several Lakers games with our friends Booth and Adam, and before each game we all meet at Yang Chow for Slippery Shrimp and Green Beans with Minced Pork. We try to sit in William’s station. He is a huge Laker’s fan, and is often wearing a team tie. In fact, guess where we’re going tonight? Let’s go, Lakers!

10. The Hollywood Bowl. My father took his dates to the Hollywood Bowl in the 60s and really, is there anywhere more romantic? Grab a picnic and a bottle of wine, and head for the ‘Bowl. Fireworks may ensue.

But of course the very best thing about LA, and the most unexpected part of living here, are the incredible friends and colleagues and colleagues who are friends whom I’ve come to know over the past ten years. So here’s to you, you know who you are! And thank you for making LA a place I am proud to call home.

Honorable mention: Mikawaya mochi and Daikoku Ramen in Little Tokyo, omakase at Sushi Ike, Surfas, The Cheese Store of Beverly Hills, hiking or hitting golf balls in Griffith Park, the steamed red curry with seafood at Yai Thai, Book Soup, Harry Winston, reserved seating at Arclight Cinema, sandwiches from John’s Garden and eating them across the PCH under an umbrella at Malibu Lagoon Beach, the view from the gardens at The Getty, Disney Hall, OK Store on Third, running with the LA Leggers at the beach before dawn on Saturday mornings, Dodger dogs, the clam pizza at Mozza, the Triumvirate (Barneys, Saks, Neimans on Wilshire), KPCC, and margaritas after work across the street with my neighbors Alyssa and Martha are RIGHT up there.

Addendum: Cannot believe I forgot to initially include: the Lakers, of course! I’ll be the one in the Pau Gasol Sunday whites jersey at tonight’s game…let’s go, Lakers!

Things to do with a leftover 8lb pork butt: part one

Earlier this week, I slow-roasted an 8lb pork shoulder (aka Boston butt) forever, resulting in the best, most tender and rich pork I’ve yet to enjoy. And it couldn’t have been easier. We’ve already had two nights of AWESOME leftovers for three slightly piggy adults, and still have enough for several more meals. At least. So, at $4.99/lb, this roast was something of a steal. The first round of leftovers was inspired by a favorite slow-roasted heritage pork panini at Napa Style in Napa Valley. Taking a page out of chef Michael Chiarello’s book, I had my husband stop by Mozza2Go to pick up a jar of mostarda (an Italian riff on chutney made w/ pear and mustard). Of course, being too generous to say anything until he got home, he bought the damn jar, which cost NINETEEN DOLLARS. I mean, that is half the price of the freaking pork butt.

But begrudgingly—and I mean begrudgingly—I admit it was incredible on the sandwich. As well it should be at prices that rival gold. I lightly toasted some potato buns from Ralph’s, where we also picked up a bag of pre-shredded slaw and mixed with mayo & apple cider vinegar.

And then reheated the pork in a 300-degree oven for 10-15 minutes, and piled it high topped w/ slaw on the sandwich. I’m guessing we will be porked out by the time we’ve reached the end of the bounty, but next time I’d love to try this with a bone-in heritage Boston butt, though it’d be almost triple the price. Hmm…Santa, baby?