French Onion Soup

Some time in the early eighties I ate Knorr's packet onion soup, heated on a spirit stove, at a campsite in Norway. The experience ruined the reputation of onion soup, and of asparagus soup with it, for 25 years. Now and then, when onion soup has come up on a restaurant menu, I have skipped quickly past it. Odd, really, given that onions are otherwise a great favourite of mine.

But now the situation has been happily put right. From the onions I caramelised yesterday there came today a delicious "soup", made to a recipe by Rachael of Fresh Approach Cooking. Two kilos of onions had left 450 grams after four hours, and the soup takes only four heaped tablespoons of that. The gruyère was already waiting, so all that remained to be got was the port and some stale white bread.

Onion soup was already eaten in the days of the Roman Empire, but this modern recipe goes back to the seventeenth century. King Louis XV of France is claimed to have invented the dish when he came back to his hunting lodge and had nothing to eat but onions, bread and champagne. Everyone can judge for themselves how likely it is that the king was the one bustling over the pots. I also read another story, in which the soup was brought to court by the king's father-in-law Stanislas, the former king of Poland, who had eaten it at an inn and insisted on being given the recipe. The cheese on top apparently came only in the nineteenth century, in the eating houses around the wholesale market of Les Halles in Paris, where the soup was eaten in the small hours by market porters and revellers alike. For this recipe, at any rate, the kudos goes to Rachael.

The soup itself is quickly made once the onions have been caramelised. They are warmed in a saucepan, thickened with dark Maizena and covered with stock, which I made from game fond and water. Any other meat stock will do. There is only half a teaspoon of each herb, and they go in with the port only when the pan has been taken off the heat. For two there is only half a litre of liquid and a hundred grams of cheese, and each plate gets two thin slices of bread. A serving comes to about 580 kilocalories. The oven should be as hot as it will go, because the soup spends only a few minutes there under the bread and the grated cheese. On the plate in the picture the cheese that ran to the rim still managed to scorch almost black. Some more basil leaves went on top as a garnish.

Although the name of the dish suggests a soup, its consistency is more that of a stew. The rich, full flavour of the port melts into the nutty sweetness of the caramelised onions, and with the cheesy bread they make a quite splendid treat for a freezing day.