In which we're in the soup now

bviously, after an extended absence, The Cornet Player should bring you up to date on what's happened in the last year or so. I've got a new laptop, Ulco Bedd is playing guitar in a background tab (He plays there, to make us happy here). So the story of what's been happening:

Or, how about not? Or at least, not yet? Instead, I will tell you how I unlocked the Secret Cabalistic Secret of Onion Soup. 

Preparatory exercise: Mutter to yourself, several times, "It should be harder than this." 

The first problem with onion soup is, that it's soup. Eating soup involves the ability to manipulate a spoon, with subtle, graceful movements of one's thumb. If The Cornet Player could still do stuff like that with his thumb, he would still be The Saxophone Player, so that's off the table, in more ways than one. But! Onion soup solves this problem with the additions of "croutons" which transform the soup partway down the spectrum from substance (basically unmanageable) to object (basically manageable.) 

Let me reassure the reader, that we will not use the artificially flavoured objects usually sold under that name.

Why not? The diligent reader will remember, of course, The Puckle Gun.

It was designed to shoot round bullets at Christians, and square bullets at Turks, for reasons which were so obvious at the time, that nobody bothered to record the least hint of what they were. But to struggle onwards in ignorance was always the lot of man, so "Forward!" is the cry. The reason that this is relevant is that nobody has recorded what was done with all the unused square bullets. 

Also, nobody knows where those odd, square-ish objects sold under the name of "croutons" come from. I'm not saying there's any connection between the two mysterious, square objects. I'm just given to wondering, in the late hours of the evening, when all is dark and quiet, and one's thoughts go wandering into strange, frightening place... 

But I digress. Because we're not using them. We're using some of the infinite possible choices that are better. 

So, having dismissed this intrusive digression, let us consider the main problem: Caramelized onions. How to caramelize onions. Do we use low heat? Medium low heat? Slightly higher than low medium, with an addition of baking soda? Do we stir constantly, or 20 seconds on, 20 seconds off? 

Dear reader, you will be overjoyed to know that the answer to all of the above is: "No." 

The secret to caramelizing onions, as many other things, is "Less Effort." Peel and slice and chop a load of onions (I like to do about six pounds. I would give that to you in metric, but my knife refuses to cut in decapascals per hectare, and I'm too tired to argue.) Put them in a slow cooker on low. Stir them about every two hours, if you're feeling manic, and just have to do something. Six or twelve hours later, they will be about 75% smaller, and dark brown, and very pungent, and if that's not caramelized, it will do until the real thing comes along. 

Now, bung them all in the fridge. Put them in a container first, unless you like cleaning your fridge a little more than anyone should. Use a container with a tight lid, unless you like everything to taste like fried onions, not that there's anything wrong with that. 

Go to a butcher's shop. Not a supermarket. Not a cutesy corner of the local megastore, with a designer sign that says "Butchery Shoppe." I'm talking about a place that does nothing else, and has multiple members of the same family behind the counter, and cuts stuff to order. Ask them for some soup bones. I get three 1" slices, with some meat on it. You may develop other preferences. It's cool. 

Just don't use this stuff.

Or this stuff.

Please? Every time someone uses that stuff, Ajit Pai eats a kitten. 

Ajit Pai, FCC Chairman, and opponent of net neutrality.

 

Put your soup  bone in the slow cooker. Put in an onion. Cut it in half. Peel it, if you're feeling all Martha-Stewart. Wash off a stalk of celery, and throw it in. Add a couple of bay leaves. Put in a carrot, if you're feeling ambitious. Fill the slow cooker with water. Finally, and this is important, turn it on. Put it on high until it boils. Put it on low if you're leaving the house. Add water if it gets low. Let it go for a day or so. 

Then, using whatever method suits your temperament and MMPI classification, remove the stock (the watery brown stuff) from the slow cooker, and leave the bones and vegetables behind. Now, TASTE THE STOCK. It will need salt. If you don't add salt, you will make a lot of weird onion soup. DAMHIKT.* Just add salt until it tastes right.

Then, mix up the caramelized onions, and the stock. You have soup. You can refrigerate it, freeze it, reheat it, all that good stuff, and there's no worries. 

BUT! about the croutons: Get yourself a half-price stale baguette. Slice it up thinnish. Put it in a bag, and keep it handy. When you want soup, put some in a bowl, cover the top with the slices of  baguette, and  nuke it. My bowls take about two minutes to two and a half, but your bowls may be different.

Still doesn't look like the stuff at the restaurant, though, right? You need cheese. You can use old cheddar, mild cheddar, smoked cheddar, gouda, gruyere (if you're rich) even mozzarella and parmesan. Just grate it first, and let it sit on the hot soup for a bit. It will melt down and be perfect. the croutons will soak up the soup, and make it less able to fall out of the spoon. All will be well in the world. 

(If you're in a hurry, you can melt the cheese with another 30 seconds in the microwave, or under a broiler, or use a creme brulee torch, or a plumber's torch, or the gas axe,

or a war surplus flame thrower. (Some of these options are more prudent than others.) 

And that's it, folks. Scale-able, cheap, dead easy, and relatively quick. Enjoy. 

Oh yes, one other thing: In the meantime, The Cornet Player is getting good at cooking stuff that doesn't need chewing. A very bright young fellow in The Little Smoke is trying to save the implant which constitutes half of the last working pair of molars left to y'r ob'd't s'rv'nt. He is likely to succeed, BTW, but that's the kind of year it's been.  

More soon, I hope, as more doin's transpire. Stay warm, y'all.


*DAMHIKT: don't ask me how I know this.