the best thing i've made in 2010: onion panade

2010 has not been so hot,

food-wise.

we brought in the new year

with a dinner, that i've said,

was ok, i guess.

and then the next night,

after i spent hours saying,

i was going to make fresh pasta,

but instead watched a lot

of law and order: svu,

i boiled up a pot of dried spaghetti

and tossed it with sage and grated parm.

that was followed by huevos rancheros

that may have been ok,

if i didn't somehow overcook the eggs,

chickpea patties that were like

bland hockey pucks,

potatoes that i

smashed with the bottom

of a glass (on purpose)

and then kind of

burnt to a crisp (not on purpose),

a pasta, cauliflower and horseradish

dish that needed lots of hot sauce

to enjoy and a salad dressing that was

way too garlicky for the

perfectly good salad i carefully assembled.

when dinner goes wrong,

it's a bummer. but when dishes

are unsuccessful several days in

a row, you start to doubt yourself,

and seriously consider turning to

meals made outside the home.

but then, you find a recipe.

one recipe, that miraculously

goes according to plan,

doesn't surprise you along the way

and in the end, is exactly what

you were hoping for

and maybe, even more.

for our wedding anniversary,

larry put the

give-paper-for-one-year rule,

into brooke terms

and gave me a cookbook.

the art of simple food,

by alice waters, to be precise.

the thing is, i'm not that simple.

i can taste the difference

between an unbelievable tomato

and a good tomato.

and i can appreciate the brilliance

of someone taking that

amazing tomato and drizzling

it only with a few drops of olive oil

and a couple sprinklings of

really good salt.

but most likely - and maybe, sadly -

in my hands, it wouldn't stay that way.

i like what comes of mixing together

spices and herbs and vinegars.

and i like what happens when something

is sauteed or roasted or combined

with something a little wacky.

so, i glanced through the book

and saw, what i consider,

good basics. there was a list

of pantry essentials,

recipes for fruit salad and

different methods for preparing

rice, a garlic and olive oil sauce

and cheese omelets.

and yes, i know this is alice waters.

and i know and love a lot of what

she has done, what she is still on

a mission to do. i just like a little

more oomph.

but, for some reason,

page 262 stopped me. i had never

heard of a panade before - which,

now after conducting a ton of research,

seems ridiculous. but here, it was,

a panade, featuring very simply:

onions

thyme

stale bread

gruyere

parm

chicken broth.

simple. and sounding pretty much

like the ingredients for french onion soup.

i loved the idea of a panade:

you prepare all the ingredients

(saute the onions,

slice and toast the bread,

grate in the cheese),

and then you layer them all

together in a casserole dish

and bake for 1 1/2 hours.

when it's pulled from the oven,

it should be intensly flavored soup.

and to my delight - on another absolutely

frigid winter night - it was. after baking

for 45 minutes, i pulled the foil off and

cooked until the top was brown and bubbly.

when i first opened the oven,

i couldn't believe how much it all smelled

like bread pudding, or how beautifully

the top had puffed up. but, of course, unlike

bread pudding, this is an eggless recipe

and the soup deflated fast.

when i scooped into it,

the bread pudding wafts were a distant memory,

instead replaced clearly by

the scents of a very rich onion soup.

even the chicken broth - maybe not so optimal

for those of you who swear by beef broth to make

the heartiest, boldest variation - transformed

thanks to those golden onions

and thin layers of cheese,

that have been jumbled together, first in the oven,

and then in your bowl.

once scooped into individual dishes,

it's not gorgeous, but who needs gorgeous

when you've got delicious?

and yes, delicious is not a very

imaginitive word. but it's simple and fitting,

and maybe, sometimes, that's not so bad.

onion panade

adapted from the art of simple food

this is the perfect sunday night soup - it does not require a lot of attention, especially once the onions are out of the pan, but it does take time that you may not have on a weeknight.

i used a 2-quart dish instead of the 1 1/2 quart casserole indicated, so i upped the ingredient amounts just a bit - i've listed my changes below. i also realized later that i was meant to heat the chicken broth before adding it to dish - i didn't and i don't think the soup suffered (but, apparently, i am not doing so well in the basic reading department lately). also, when making this, i used my method of caramelizing onions, instead of the one in the book. it took about an hour (instead of the 45 minutes waters called for).

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 large sweet onions, peeled and thinly sliced

2 or 3 thyme sprigs (or 1/2 - 1 teaspoon dried thyme)

kosher salt

1/2 day-old italian or country-style loaf

1/2 cup grated parm

3/4 cup grated gruyere (i used aged)

3-5 cups chicken or beef broth (i used chicken)

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

in large skillet, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. when hot, add onions and thyme; cook 5 minutes, stirring often. reduce heat to medium low and cook 30-35 minutes, or until very soft. increase heat to medium and cook 15-20 minutes, or until onions are a medium golden brown, stirring often.

meanwhile, heat oven to 350˚f. thinly slice bread; place slices on a baking sheet and bake 5 minutes, turning once, or until dry, but not brown.

in bowl, mix together grated parm and grated gruyere.

in 2-quart baking dish, place single layer of bread (the recipe did not indicate, but i did cut bread to make sure the bottom was completely covered). top bread with half the onions, spreading evenly; sprinkle with half the cheese mixture. top with second layer of bread, remaining onions and another third of cheese. top with remaining bread and sprinkle with remaining cheese.

place baking dish on baking pan. carefully pour broth down the side into the dish, taking care not to disrupt the layers, until the top layer of bread begins to float. dot with butter.

cover; carefully transfer baking pan to oven. bake 45 minutes. uncover dish and bake 20-30 minutes more, or until the top layer is golden brown and crisp. (after 30 minutes, i put the broiler on for a couple more, just until the top had a few golden spots.)

creamy mushroom soup with sherry

five days after larry returned

from chicago,

he was tasked with spending

the day in washington d.c.

he was to wake up early,

catch the 7 am train down

and the 6 pm back up.

for my part,

i had been actively

collecting different types

of mushroom for the past

several days, along with

dried mixed wild mushrooms,

and i knew that i wanted to

greet larry home on this

especially cold and rainy

fall day with a bowl of

mushroom soup.

but cut to that evening.

i was in the midst of

work craziness and larry

was able to catch

the 5 o'clock train.

when i got the text around

7:35 that he was about

25 minutes from pulling into

penn station, i looked at the

pile of raw, still uncleaned

and unsliced mushrooms.

and then i kind of panicked.

i had been craving mushroom soup

for quite a long time.

first i found the dried mushrooms

at an excellent price.

then food52 ran their

mushroom soup contest.

and then shiitakes went on sale

the same weekend that i found

beautiful creminis for what i still think,

is a very good deal.

so then, i did what i always do:

research like crazy. i found recipes

that were thick,

bowls of clear broth dotted

with ingredients,

soups without dairy and those

so brimming with cream,

i wondered if you could even

taste the mushrooms.

when i was done, i realized two things:

none of the recipes were exactly what i

was looking for and if i wanted a delicious,

truly mushroom soup, i better use

a ridiculous amount of mushrooms.

and, so, larry returned home

at almost 9 pm to a very hot

kitchen and me muttering things

like crazy and too many mushrooms.

whose recipe is it, larry asked?

to which i stepped down from the chair

i had been standing on - directly above

the stove to take a good picture -

and said, my own. i made it up. i'm a fool.

i think the mushroom fumes may have

gotten to me. it wasn't really that bad.

but when you start out after 7:30 at night

with 40 ounces of mushrooms,

each one demanding of you to

clean them gently

slice them nicely

saute them deliciously,

and still expect you to take their

picture frequently, maybe you don't

love all those mushrooms

you once so lovingly chose from the lot.

after they had been sliced, i had an epiphany.

they were never going to saute well in

a stock pot. instead, they would steam,

rendering themselves flabby and flavorless.

so i knew that my best bet was to

dirty another pan by sauteing them first

in the largest skillet i own, deglazing

and then transferring the whole mixture

to a saucepot with broth.

that was my aha! moment.

the next one was about

1 minute later when i looked

at the mushrooms sitting well above

the rim of the skillet and thought

hmm, now what?

at that point, i had no choice but to

remove half the mushrooms from

the skillet, brown the ones that

stayed and then switch them out

with the raw slices. when they were

all cooked, i tossed them back into

the skillet, added several splashes

of sherry and let them sizzle.

that's when larry came home.

from where i was standing -

high on that well-positioned chair -

i saw the kitchen for the first time

through a newcomers eyes.

several cabinet doors open,

kahlua,

gin

and

vodka on the counter.

(i swear, i was looking for the sherry.)

a few mushrooms had fallen to the floor -

this was the first time i noticed.

oh goodness, i made a mess.

it's fine. every thing's fine,

i promised. i brought the mushrooms

and broth to a boil, along with the

soaking mixture from the dried mushrooms

and set to work making the kitchen

not look like the laboratory of a lunatic.

pureeing the soup was

a last minute decision -

up until that time, i still thought

about leaving it brothy and

heavily dotted with mushrooms.

but, i'm so glad that i yet again

pulled out the immersion blender.

the hot liquid was transformed from

a simple fall soup to an

creamy mixture that was earthy and filling.

the best part?

i didn't need any milk or cream.

i had bought a carton of milk,

just in case. but when i tasted

the soup, it didn't need it.

i just added a bit more broth

to thin the whole thing out,

tasted it and realized

the pot was fine and that

it was time for me to walk away.

or, um, spoon them into bowls

so that larry could finally eat

dinner. and then (then!),

i topped the soup with

one of my favorite things:

roasted mushrooms.

oh! these are totally optional

and to be honest,

soup is probably not the best

dish to let them strut their stuff,

but wow are they good.

like everything else that benefits

from roasting, they lose all of

their moisture so that their

mushroom flavor is completely

concentrated. they become crispy

and amazingly decadent and you'll

swear you're eating something

so much more than a slice of mushroom.

when i spoke of this soup

the next day, i chose not to mention

that by the time

the picture taking was done

and the goat cheese toasts

for dunking were made,

we didn't eat it until close to 10.

or the fact that when we finished

eating, i ran into the kitchen first

saying, see, it's not so bad in here,

right? oh, don't look on that side.

but instead, i focused on

the soup: full of mushrooms

would be an understatement.

but thick, rich and exactly

what i crave to cut a chill,

make me forget

that rain is pounding

hard on my window,

and remember

that my husband is back home

would be right on point.

creamy mushroom soup with sherry

i think this recipe took me a long time because let's face it: i was making it up as i went along. by far, the longest part of the process is cleaning and slicing the mushrooms. after that, it's a straight shoot. i meant it when i said that the soup doesn't need the milk, but i'll add one caveat to that. this soup is absolutely for mushroom lovers and if you're feeding this to someone who is eh about them, this might be a bit intense. in that case, mellow it with some milk (or half-and-half) (or cream). still know, it's a rich soup.

and for the garnish - i splurged and bought two chanterelles (which i halved) for roasting and adding to the top. i also reserved two large shiitakes (which i stemmed and quartered) and three or four creminis (which i thickly sliced). i tossed them all on the pan, along with some olive oil and kosher salt. after about 18 minutes at 400˚f, tossing twice, they were golden and crisp. just be sure to keep an eye on them - going from golden to burnt in a flash is one of their favorite party tricks.

1 cup dried mixed wild mushrooms

2 large shallots, peeled and diced

4 large cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided

24 ounces cremini mushrooms, wiped cleaned, ends trimmed and thinly sliced

10 ounces white button mushrooms, wiped cleaned, ends trimmed and thinly sliced

6 ounces shiitake mushrooms, wiped clean, stemmed and thinly sliced

1 cup pale sherry, divided

7-8 cups chicken stock

place dried mushrooms in medium heatproof bowl. in small saucepot, bring 2 cups water to a boil; pour over mushrooms. let sit 30 minutes. using slotted spoon, remove mushrooms from broth. chop. place coffee strainer carefully into measuring cup. carefully (so that the filter doesn't move) pour soaking liquid into cup. the dirt and grit from the mushrooms will stay in the strainer. reserve chopped rehydrated mushrooms and strained liquid.

[i found this tip in my travels when reading about balthazar's method for making mushroom soup. it was great.]

meanwhile, in the largest skillet you have over medium heat, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil. add shallots and cook 10 minutes, or until softened. add garlic and cook 2 minutes, more, stirring constantly, or until golden brown.

add 1 tablepoon of olive oil and 1 tablespoon butter; increase heat to medium-high. let melt and heat up. add half the mushrooms to the pan; stir to coat and season with kosher salt and pepper. increase heat to high. cook mushrooms 6-8 minutes, or until golden brown, stirring often. (they will seem like they've absorbed all their moisture, then they'll release water and then they'll start to brown.) transfer cooked mushrooms to a plate. repeat with remaining olive oil, remaining butter and remaining mushrooms.

add the first batch of mushrooms back to the skillet along with the dried mushrooms. remove the skillet from the heat and add 3/4 cup sherry. carefully place the skillet back over the flame. let cook 1 minute, or until the sherry is reduced to a glaze, stirring to release everything stuck to the bottom of the skillet.

transfer mushroom mixture to large saucepot. add 6 cups chicken broth and mushroom soaking liquid. over high heat, bring mixture to a boil; reduce heat and let simmer 25 minutes, or until mushrooms are very soft. using immersion blender, blend soup until smooth. (or use a blender and puree, very carefully by pressing on lid with a dishtowel, in batches.) add 1 cup chicken stock (or more) to thin out the soup to your desired consistency. stir in remaining sherry. reheat on low heat, if necessary.