Menu for One

French Onion Soup

 

It has been freezing here, in a technical sense.  Yes, yes, I know it's probably been colder wherever you happen to be sitting, but for Atlanta, it has been unseasonably cold.  That's why I was thankful to have this french onion soup ready for me in my freezer.  

Everyone needs an emergency recipe like this in their back pocket.  It comes from a great cookbook I got for Christmas, Eugenia Bone's Well-Preserved.  She shows country folk and city folk alike how to can (aka put up or preserve) fruits, vegetables, or meats in small quantities, AND THEN shows you what to do with them when you open them up later, other than just eating them out of the jar.  The greatest part of the book is that, for a great many of the recipes, you don't need any special equipment.  This french onion soup is one of those beauties.  All you need is a large pot and some freezer bags/containers.

As with each of the recipes in the book, this recipe is made in two stages.  You start first by making Stewed Onions with Marjoram, to be divided into 2-pint portions and stored in your freezer.  Whenever you're craving something warm and seriously delicious, you just grab a pack out of your freezer and reheat it with some chicken stock.  Voila!

Over medium-low, heat 6 tablespoons in your largest pot (I learned this the hard way - you'll need plenty of room for the onions).  In the meantime, thinly slice 24 medium yellow onions.  If you have a food processor, this is a moment where your slicer disk can really shine.  It will save you a lot of time and tears.  Add the onions to the pot and let them hang out for 30 minutes or so, stirring every few minutes.  [If you're concerned after adding the onions that there won't be room for any other ingredients, don't worry - their volume will decrease significantly.]  Next, add two quarts of low-sodium beef stock and 3 tablespoons of dried marjoram.  I recommend low-sodium because it gives you a little more control over the saltiness of your food.  It's much easier to add a little bit more than to take any out.  Let this all hang out on the stove for an hour and fifteen minutes.  The onions will be soft and stewy.

When the mixture has cooled, I used tongs to transfer the onions to 6 freezer-safe plastic bags, then ladled in the broth.  End of STAGE ONE.

 

STAGE TWO: When you're ready to enjoy the soup, grab a bag from the freezer.  Defrosting it overnight would probably be best, but I just cut the bag open and reheated it over a low flame with a quart of chicken stock.  When I could see steam start to rise from the surface of the soup, I ladled it into two ramekins, topped it with some thick-sliced bread, and sprinkled it with shredded parmesan cheese.  After 5-10 minutes in a 400F oven, the bread had soaked up some of the soup and the cheese had formed a delicious golden-brown crust.  I'm happy to report that STAGE TWO took all of fifteen minutes to prepare, maybe less.  One portion from the freezer comfortably feeds two.  Enjoy!

 

Spinach Frittata

As I see it, there are two avenues of success, if you will, in this cooking for one business: improvisation and/or careful planning.  I gave improvisation a shot in my last soup post.  As we all know, practice makes perfect, so here I go again.  Breakfast.  I figured if I got some proportions down (appealing to the side of me that loves to plan), it would facilitate my efforts in improvisation.  So, Kathryn-the-Planner pulled out a whole bunch of cookbooks to gather as many different frittata recipes as she could find, in hopes that she could determine the egg to filler ratio.  Well, low and behold, Mark Bittman already did the work for me: 1-2 cups of filling for every 4-5 eggs (See How to Make Everything).  

In a small, oven-safe omelet pan cook most of the way through (or reheat, if you're working with leftovers) the frittata fillings.  Meanwhile, whisk together the eggs, salt and pepper, and a handful of grated cheese.  Lower the heat to medium-low and add the egg mixture.  Let it hang out until the bottom starts to firm up, then transfer the omelet pan to a 350F oven to finish cooking in there (roughly 10 minutes, but check frequently).

In this version, I think I added spinach, onions, and parmesan cheese.  Since the onions take a little longer to cook than spinach, I started cooking them first. When they were nearly soft, I added some frozen spinach I had defrosted and squeezed dry.  As Bittman instructed, I added the egg/cheese mixture, let it set up a little bit in the pan and then transferred to the oven.  Here's where I went wrong: I let it cook too long in the oven.  Still edible, but not a masterpiece.  So be careful!  Check often! 

As you can see, I ate it with fruit and a glass of milk.  Looking at it now, if only I had added a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice in the photo, you would hear a voiceover at the end of this post saying, "Part of this complete breakfast," just like they did during the commercial breaks of Saturday morning cartoons.

Pearl Couscous Gratin with Pesto and Goat Cheese

Confession: I like costume dramas.  Jane Austen films in particular, and I'll watch them over and over again (although I promise I won't make you watch them).  And the funny thing is, that after I've seen one, I notice that my sentences become more drawn out, and are peppered with words like "quite" and "whilst."

Even if Jane Austen films aren't your thing, I'm sure there's been a moment when you've been talking to someone on the phone who's trying to be quiet on their end, and then all of a sudden you say to yourself, "wait - why am I whispering?"

Well, I've been working a lot lately, and my day job of writing in formal legal-ese is bleeding into my thoughts about this blog.  In starting this post, I had to fight the urge to write "Pursuant to page 554 in the How to Cook Everything Vegetarian Cookbook by Mark Bittman...."  So bear with me.  I'll snap out of it.

That being said, we had a few days of heavy rain in Atlanta last week (desperately needed) and it seemed like one of the last opportunities to make some hot-out-of-the-oven comfort food before the weather gets too hot for comfort down here.  I turned to a recipe I had made once before, but that can be easily manipulated to feature whatever veggies you've got in your fridge, and in my case, green beans.  

In a couple of tablespoons of olive oil, sauté a finely chopped shallot or a small handful of chopped red onion.  Add to the pan 8 ounces of asparagus or green beans cut into one-inch pieces and cook until softened, but still underdone.  In a 2-quart casserole, combine the veggie mixture with 2 cups cooked pearl couscous (aka israeli couscous, a toasted couscous that is larger than the traditional couscous; it's about the size of a pencil eraser).  This time around, I substituted orzo for the couscous, and it worked out okay, but pearl couscous may still be the better way to go.

In a separate measuring cup or bowl, combine 1/2 cup of pesto, an egg, and 1/2 cup of cream, milk, or stock, whatever you have on hand, and pour over the casserole.  While it settles into all the nooks and crannies, pull out 4 ounces of goat cheese.  Using your fingers,break the cheese into small pieces and distribute over the top of the casserole.  Bake at 350F for 30-40 minutes, until the top is golden brown and bubbling.  I was a little impatient here and didn't quite get to the golden brown stage, but it was still tasty.

I think the trick is not cooking the veggies all the way through before putting them in the casserole.  Frankly, depending on the size of the veggies, I may not sauté them at all.  Otherwise, the veggies get cooked once in the sauté pan and then again in the oven, resulting in a color I refer to as "potluck green" (if you know what I mean).  Mark Bittman does a nice job showing several variations that can be made depending on your taste, the occasion, or the vegetables in season.  His book is straightforward and comprehensive, and I recommend that you take a look at it (or its brother, How to Cook Everything).  

Unintentionally, I ended up enjoying a completely green meal the weekend of St. Patrick's day.  But I did not enjoy it under a rainbow.  Or beside a pot o' gold.  Better luck to ye.