Well, so much for a sunny staycation. This week is likely to bring rain, rain, and more rain. Not that I mind. It's a good chance to catch up with work and to take a quiet breather.
Last night, I had absolutely no dinner plans. I wearily put a few onions on the cutting board, peeled off their flaky skin, chopped off the blunt ends, then split them lengthwise. A full few minutes passed as I stared at the half domes, dreading yet another saute. I was just about to do my customary cross-section dicing but then began slicing them into half moon slices instead. "Caramelized," I thought. I had nowhere to go; there was time to wait for the onions to sweat and sweeten.
I stuck a dab of butter in the dutch oven, and when it melted, I added two onions worth of half moon slices. I let this cook over low heat, stirring only occasionally. A few minutes in, they were translucent. A half hour later, they were exhausted-limp and losing form.
After about an hour, the onions started to form a sweet-smelling, clumpy mass. Onion residue was sticking to the bottom of the pan, so I poured in some leftover white wine. The brown bits released and turned the onions a deep brown. I waited some more. The heat went up to medium. In went the last quarter cup of wine. I grabbed my last box of stock-beef stock-and poured about a third into the pot.
A few minutes later, I ladled the soup into a bowl, topped it with cheese, and had an unexpected dinner of onion soup. It was my favorite meal of the week, even sans bread and herbs.
