Market Haul

I can hear Etta James singing as I slice my spring onions in half and lay them reverently in the melted butter at the bottom of my widest pan, douse them with a little water and white wine, sprinkle them with fresh thyme leaves from the garden and cover them to braise oh-so-slowly toward tenderness.

At last!

Our own little farmer's market here in Point Richmond has started up again for the season and our street is filled with white tents sheltering smiling vendors selling fresh fruits and veggies, plus handcrafts and prepared dinners.

A trio of musicians adds to the festive air, their coffee can out prominently in front is slowly filling with appreciative donations. Neighbors are milling among the tents, greeting each other and carrying heavy sacks of produce or small children. Older children flit around the little park uner the watchful eye of our Indian statue and dance to the music. Some people bring their dogs, who sniff and wag with enthusiasm.

My berry guy is back so strawberries are now on the menu; I resisted all berries until he returned. His are so sweet, shiny and ripe, they were worth the wait. Green garlic can be found weekly just down the street. Spring onions are plentiful and so beautifully colored. Freshly baked breads and pastries, plentiful bags of nuts - in short, it's a mini cornucopia just two blocks down the hill.

We are hoping for a fishmonger and a cheese vendor to round out the offerings. In the meantime, we are reveling in the return of the market and the warmer weather. At last.

Soup From Scratch

I set out to make onion soup from scratch the other day. Two days later, we actually sat down to eat it.

I had read about roasting bones to make beef stock and wanted to see how much better it might be than the usual canned broth I use. So, I collected some soup bones from my butcher, roasted them along with some aromatic veggies, then made broth by covering them with water and adding more veggies (carrots, onions, celery, bay leaf) and simmering them until they yelled "uncle!"

The resulting broth was nicely colored but not really very flavorful by itself and it only made one quart. I decided to forge ahead, hoping that the broth would add vitamins to the soup, if nothing else.

The onion soup recipe I used was Julia Child's classic from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, volume one. Julia seemed to feel that canned broth was not a terrible sin; made me wonder why I had been so gung-ho to create my own broth. Never mind, onward!

The long, slow cooking that Julia suggests for the onions did take a considerable time, as she warned before I began. Nearly an hour later, they were limp and golden brown, really quite lovely. I covered them with the boiling broth and simmered them for another 40-50 minutes, adjusting seasoning and adding wine and cognac as the recipe suggested. Ladled into bowls, it was topped with crunchy garlic croutons and a few batons of Gruyère strewn across the top to droop down into the soup, and served steaming hot. The first two pictures I tried to take fogged my lens.

My Beloved, who is the onion soup aficionado in our family, loved it. He remarked on how rich it tasted, and how layered. He usually peppers everything that goes into his mouth but he left the soup alone, just ducking his head and slurping his way through his bowl. I served some buttered herb toasts alongside and he used his last toast to chase the rest of the broth and the last few onions around his bowl.

I'd call this soup a big success, except that it took about 20X longer to make it than it took to eat it, not my favorite ratio. Next time, I'd go for canned stock to see if we could truly taste the difference. What's good enough for Julia is usually fine by me.

Visceral Reaction

Viscera. Ugly, ugly word. Conjures up all the roadkill I have ever turned my eyes away from. But, I have to admit that I rather enjoy this particular kind.

I was over in Marin the other day for an annual dental checkup - I'm happy to report that my choppers are good for another six months or 600 meals, whichever comes first. When I go over there, I usually stop at the Woodlands Market as a treat afterward, to see how the other half lives. It's a lovely, if pricey, little supermarket that often carries things I don't see in other stores and, sure enough, it came through with calf's liver this time.

I've written about Mrs. Jenkins' liver before but I thought I'd remind you liver lovers out there how good it can be with some nice sautéed onions and a couple of strips of bacon. If your market doesn't carry it, treat yourself to dinner here. They know how to do it right.

Hot Onions

Hot Onions. Sounds like a great name for a '70s rock group, doesn't it?

While I had the oil hot for making my Belgian frites, I decided to fry some onions for the burgers while I was at it. They came out nicely brown and had that strong onion taste that comes from cooking them with high heat, but they didn't caramelize and they don't turn sweet when this much heat is applied. Now I know why onion rings always have that thick breading around them - to protect the onion from the high heat of frying and keep it sweet.

Over all, I don't think I'd do this again. I like slow-cooked onions more than these hot ones. So, if you have a rock group you've been looking to name, Hot Onions is still up for grabs.

Gooey Rice

To go with our grilled pork medallions, I wanted to use some Massa brown rice, but I was looking for a little extra flavor since the rest of the meal was fairly bland. I sauteed some chopped onion in about a tablespoon of bacon fat, until it was nicely brownish, then added the rice, cooking it in the onion-bacon mixture for a few minutes before adding chicken broth and simmering, covered, for about 50 minutes.

When I put the medallions on the grill, I started the beans and added brightly green scallions to the rice pot, stirring them in and letting them cook gently for the 5-10 minutes or so it took to grill the pork and steam the beans.

I'd describe the rice as bacon-onion risotto except that I've never made a risotto in my life. The smoky bacon flavor pervaded the dish and the rich onion flavor complemented the nutty rice. The texture was creamy/gooey, as if I had added stock and stirred every few minutes when, in fact, all I did was put on the lid, set the timer and go bug My Beloved for a while.

The (S)tart and the Staff

My first course at JoJo's was really heavenly. On a platform of two slices of light but buttery pastry, the chef built a foundation of sweetly caramelized onion, then topped it with goat cheese islands and nicoise olive halves for a spectacular start to the meal. Nestled alongside was a simply dressed mini-salad of parsley and grated Parmesan, an interesting counterpoint to all that richness.

One of the best parts of the whole JoJo's experience has to be the friendly, joyous wait staff. They all seem actually to be enjoying the serving of this wonderful food. They skip the ponderous self-introductions in favor of clear descriptions of the delights the patron is about to sample and very knowledgeable suggestions of wines pairings. Water glasses are refilled promptly, food is served without reaching across the diners, plates are removed quietly - in short, they really know their stuff and they make a real contribution to the happy experience.

Start to finish, JoJo's was a lovely experience.