French Onion Soup

I blame the cold, but I’m off task again with this classic French Onion Soup. It all started this morning as I wrote up my notes for the Cranberry Margarita. See, it’s a frozen margarita. And in general, I don’t even like frozen drinks (but this one’s great). I just came in from walking the dog. It was really cold. I started trying to say something positive about a frozen drink. I couldn’t. I started looking at old photos and thinking about what I wanted for lunch. Hint, it wasn’t a frozen drink. The next thing I knew, I was defrosting French onion soup and digging through the cheese drawer looking for a good melting cheese. Voila. French Onion Soup. Just what the weather ordered. Aren’t you glad I’m off task, and you’re seeing beautiful French Onion Soup. 2 pounds onions 3 sprigs fresh thyme (or ½ – 1 teaspoon dried- but the fresh is WAY better) 2 bay leaves ¾ teaspoon salt 2 tablespoons unsalted butter 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour (optional- slightly thinner but gluten free) ¾ cup dry white wine ⅔ cup dry sherry (I like to use a fino here) 4 cups beef (or veggie) broth (no … Continue reading

Artichoke and Preserved Lemon Soup

I love artichokes. A lot. But I do not make them often because Marc despises them. We’re talking mortal enemies. He can sense from two days out if I steamed an artichoke while he was away for the weekend, so clearly, I only serve this Artichoke and Preserved Lemon Soup when he’s not around. The funny part is that of the two of us, artichokes should be my mortal enemy. The great artichoke debacle of 2007 occurred due to the perfect storm of Marc at a conference in Chicago, an overabundance of fresh baby artichokes and too many late night episodes on the food network. Feeling inspired by a delicious looking plate of fried artichoke hearts and the fact that I had all the ingredients on hand, I decided that late night frying was the most natural path to a delicious midnight snack. I was a very inexperienced fryer at the time but recently had great success with fried chicken. I had my big bottle of frying oil and filled my fancy schmancy stock pot with oil, turned it on and carried the artichokes out to the living room where I could clean them from the comfort of my couch … Continue reading