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On the Road in the South & Onion Soup
I got a surprisingly enthusiastic response to my confession that Middle Eastern style lentils and rice -- with the all-important fried onions -- is one of my 100 favorite foods. In my nearly 40 years as a food writer and broadcaster, I've never read or heard such ecstasy about lentils. Who knew? Naturally, I also got some criticism about the way I cook them - okay, suggestions. In addition, the father of my friend Smokin' Joe Mizrahi took issue with my biblical reference. He says Essau sold his birthright for a mess of red lentils, not brown or green lentils with rice. To be sure, red lentils are a hulled variety that disintegrate when they are cooked, giving the word "pottage" more sense. I'll have to keep Essau in mind the next time I order red lentil soup in a Turkish restaurant, that's probably as close to Essau's pottage as you can get. (By the way, they make an excellent one at Taci's Beyti on Coney Island Ave. and Ave. P in Brooklyn.)
After mentioning in the same letter that I'd also recently made myself some French onion soup, the tracking software on the website told me that many of you searched for that recipe there. Unfortunately, there was none. But my onion soup recipe follows, so it will always be here now. It is pretty much the same recipe you can find in my book Soup Suppers: More than 100 main course soups with 40 accompaniments. I've changed it only slightly; let's say it has evolved since I wrote that book 15 years ago.
I am not home cooking right now, however. I'm on a road trip through the south - a vacation -- which is why it has been more than a week since you've heard from me. I left last Friday and spent last Saturday in Wilmington, Delaware, to visit Winterthur, the DuPont estate that has been turned into a museum of American antique furniture and decorative arts. The famous gardens and bucolic landscape of the property were not, obviously, in the dead of winter, looking their most impressive but the house was quite enough for me. I could have lingered for hours, but the guided tour lasts only one.
From the sublime to the ridiculous, we had lunch at the Charcoal Pit, Wilmington's famous hamburger joint. It gets cited all the time as one of the best burgers in the country. What a disappointment! I wouldn't even call it good. The main flavor was from the grill not the meat, but as I ordered mine medium-rare - and to their credit, it was right on medium-rare - it didn't have much opportunity to pick up charcoal flavor. Besides having little flavor (or juice), it was tough. I have no idea how they manage to get ground meat to be so unpleasantly chewy, but they did.
The Charcoal Pit's thick shakes are another story. Fabulous! I watched the ice cream station as I sat at the counter, the only seats in the house this very busy Saturday afternoon. Only a token amount of milk goes into these shakes. They are practically pure ice cream. The metal mixing container of the Hamilton Beach "malted machine," as we used to call it in Brooklyn, is packed solid with ice cream before it is put in the liquefier. Served in that metal container, with a glass, too, as they always did at old-fashioned ice cream parlors, one was more than sufficient for two. Much more than sufficient. And the Charcoal Pit's sundaes are over-the-top, too. "The Raft" is theoretically three scoops of ice cream on a bed of two bananas with three different sauces, but I swear that the one I saw made had at least a quart of ice cream mounded over the fruit.
Next day, I was in Washington D.C., where I ate the best meal so far on this trip, at Acadiana on New York Ave. and Ninth St. It was "Restaurant Week" in Washington, copied from NYC, but I don't know any upscale restaurant in NYC that is as generous as Acadiana. After an appetizer from a selected list, but a long list, I got to order any entrée from the main menu, portioned, it appears, as generously as if it was not from the bargain menu, then dessert -- $35. I ordered excellent gumbo to start, then had veal medallions with jalapeno grits and wild mushroom gravy. Truth be told, I ordered it for the grits and gravy, not expecting the veal to be that interesting. Well, the grits were fabulously creamy and spicy, better than anything I've had in the real south this last week. And the gravy wasn't one of the floury Southern gravies I've been eating; it was stock-based, brown, intensely savory and not the least bit starchy. And surprise of surprises, the thickish slices of veal were butter-tender and actually had good meaty flavor.
Again from the sublime to the ridiculous, I had lunch the next day at Ben's Chili Bowl on U St. I had to eat their half smokie (spicy fat sausage, D.C.-style) on a bun and topped with chili, as President Obama did on his first public meal in Washington.
Next stop was Charlottesville, Virginia, to visit Thomas Jefferson's Monticello. There may be good food around there, but all I could find was an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant where, I have to say, I had very good sliced rare roast beef and numerous pretty good side dishes, plus fresh fruit and great chocolate cream pie, all for $8.99, the dollar-off senior price.
I've been in North Carolina now for several days. Chapel Hill is a great town, a college town, and on a walk through the University of North Carolina campus, where a bit of early spring was evident in blooming daffodils and crocus, I ran across a Sir Walter Raleigh museum in the old library building. They have two 16th century period rooms, maps, and other Raleigh-ana. I also visited with my old friend Jean Anderson, a native who lived most of her adult life in New York, but moved back to North Carolina 10 years ago (how time flies), and with Fran and David McCullough, who are transplants from Hastings-on-Hudson to nearby Hillsborough, a beautiful quaint and historic town. Fran and David gave us a tour that included a visit with a local sculpture, Daniel Mathewson, who turns metal junk into small and giant animal figures. They can't help but make you smile, and Dan is pretty charming himself.
Both Jean and Fran are among the most accomplished and unsung food writers in America. Truly. Jean is still writing great cookbooks full of history, engaging stories, and cultural context, not to mention wonderful recipes. Her latest is A Love Affair with Southern Cooking: Recipes and Recollections, and she continues to write about travel (she is thePortugal food and travel expert). Fran was, until her retirement a few years ago, one of the most important cookbook editors in the country, aside from writing some important books herself. She is the author of the original Low-Carb Cookbook, as well as Living Low Carb (which she does herself, not incidientally) and Good Fat: Low Carb with 100 Recipes. David is an accomplished book editor and author, too. I can't wait to get my copy of his 1983 Brooklyn - and How It Got That Way. You can find it on Amazon.
A visit to A Southern Season, the largest and most impressive specialty food store, cookware shop, and cooking school I have ever seen (and probably in the country) was another highlight of Chapel Hill. My old friend Ariane Daguin of D'Artagnan food products based in New Jersey (ducks, chickens, foie gras, pates, sausage, truffle butter, etc.) happened to be there, so I got in a nice visit with her. And Marilyn Markel, the cooking school director, gave me a look at her gorgeous cooking school facility. As I always gravitate to the pasta section in a store like this, I dawdled there for some time, stunned by the amazing stock of imported products, including handmade pastas hard to find in one place in NYC.
In nearby Durham, I walked through the Duke gardens, which was just emerging from winter with displays of daffodils, crocus, and camellias. A few cherry trees were just about to pop, too.
Barbecue in Chapel Hill: I was told Alan and Son was the best. It was okay.
On the way to Charlotte, I stopped in another famous barbecue joint, Pik and Pig, outside Carthage. It was just okay, too. I'm not getting any smoke flavors in these North Carolina barbecues. I like North Carolina's vinegar and hot pepper-based sauces much better than sweet tomato-based sauce, but...
Better than barbecue was my antiquing stop in Cameron, also on the road to Charlotte. There are 13 (or is it 15?) multi-dealer antique buildings in this town. I got through three, spent my allotted budget and left. I found two bargains - yet another ground glass storage jar to add to my collection of them, only $12 (I'd have paid double, it was so nice), and a small, glass-topped Italian gilt-metal table for a mere $30. But, in general, the prices on most things weren't really any lower than in flea markets near NYC.
In Charlotte, I visited with Bob Harned's relatives, and I don't have any food to report on except that we went to a chain called O Charlie's for pretty good ribs, and amazingly delicious broccoli. I know that's a weird combo, but I am feeling vegetable deprived.
I arrived in Asheville today, along with the blizzard you are all living through up north, which I believe will have me eating in my room tonight. If I was home in the snow storm, as I know many of you are, I might well need a pot of this French Onion Soup to warm me up. Some of you may even have the ingredients on hand, so you don't have to leave the house.
FRENCH ONION SOUP
Serves 6 to 8
When I've made beef broth with bones, which give the soup body from their gelatin, I don't add flour. Canned beef broth is a fair-enough substitute, but in that case I add a bit of flour for extra body, as below, since I am assuming your choice is more likely canned than homemade. Be careful buying beef broth, however. I've noticed that many products today, the ones sold in boxes that are so popular, are called "beef flavored broth." If you read the label you'll see these haven't been anywhere near real beef. I use the quite decent College Inn or Swanson brands. The famous gratineed onion soup of Paris' Les Halles -- a crock of soup-saturated bread encrusted with melted cheese is my ideal, but if you like the soup is also perfect served with croutons and grated cheese to add at the table.
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
6 medium onions (2 pounds), sliced (about 6 cups)
2 teaspoons sugar
3 tablespoons flour
3/4 cup dry white wine
1 1/2 quarts beef broth
2 tablespoons cognac or good brandy
Day old or toasted French or Italian bread cut into 1/2 to 3/4-inch slices
1/2 pound Swiss Gruyere or Ementhaler (Switzerland Swiss) or Italian Fontina (or other cheese that melts well, such as Cheddar), shredded
In a 3 to 4-quart pot, heat the butter with the oil over medium heat. Add the onions and toss to coat them well with fat. Cover and let the onions cook for 10 minutes, until they are wilted and beginning to brown. There is no need to stir.
Uncover the pot and stir in the sugar. Continue to cook the onions, stirring frequently, for at least 20 minutes, until they are well-browned.
Stir in the flour and continue to cook, stirring frequently, until the flour turns the color of the onions, 5 to 8 minutes longer.
Stir in the white wine. When the liquid begins to simmer, which will be almost immediately, add the broth and cognac or brandy. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, partially cover, and let simmer 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. The soup may be prepared ahead to this point. It can be refrigerated for several days, or frozen for several months. Bring to a simmer before proceeding.
To serve baked with a crust, arrange individual crocks or heat-proof bowls on a baking sheet. Ladle hot soup into each crock or bowl. Top the soup with as many slices of bread as needed to cover the surface. Cover the surface of the bread with shredded cheese.
Bake in a preheated 400-degree oven until the cheese has melted, about 5 minutes.
Alternately, you can serve the soup without a crust. In that case, pass grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and, if desired, croutons.
Serve piping hot.
