Whenever the days get a bit cooler, I naturally start craving foods that are warm, rich and comforting. Don’t you? A nice bowl of soup always does the trick and the perfect soup that came to my mind was the classic French Onion… so rich in flavor from both the caramelized onions and beef stock and so warm and inviting with the toasted baguettes slices topped with melted, bubbling Gruyère cheese… just the right slightly sweet, salty and nutty complement to the soup. It’s real comfort in a bowl.
Of course, this all came to me last week, when I actually felt cold enough at night to wear a sweater to bed. I wrote down my shopping list and picked up all the ingredients I needed. All I wanted was to cozy on up next to Anthony on the couch with a blanket and my bowl of French Onion Soup, but instead, what happened?
A heat wave came to LA and brought record high temperatures since records even began… way back in 1877! As Homer Simpson would so eloquently and frequently say, “D’oh!”
Oh wells. Stuff happens, right? I wasn’t about to let my beautiful yellow onions go to waste, nor my cave-aged Gruyère, and so what if it was raging hot outside? =P Yellow onions are so full of flavor; they caramelize beautifully and only get better with cooking time, making them the ideal onion to use for a classic French Onion Soup. So when life gives you onions (or in my case, when you purposely go out of your way to buy the onions), make onion soup!
I did just that and even though I normally wouldn’t care for hot soup on a hot day, it was just so comforting in a way that calmed all my senses. All I had to do was close my eyes and imagine a cool, crisp autumn day and poof! I was there… comfort and ultimate satisfaction in a bowl, indeed 
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If you’ve ever had jam made by 
I would have brought back more if I could, but I was moving back home from living almost a year in Paris and my suitcases just couldn’t hold anything more… what with my recipe binders from school, my chef’s uniforms, and oh yea, my entire knife set that really weighed everything down. On top of those were books, kitchen tools and gadgets I just couldn’t leave Paris without, and more gifts to bring back for friends and family.
It’s a burger, loaded with all the goodies and packed with flavor, made small enough to fit in the palm on your hand and destined to be devoured in two bites. Need I say more?
Every now and then I come across something that tastes so good, I just know it can’t be good for me. I try to convince myself that I really shouldn’t know how it’s made or what goes in it, cause after all, ignorance can be bliss. Do I really need to know how much butter goes into a croissant? or in that slice of red velvet cake from my favorite bakery? or how much cream is in that heavenly chocolate mousse? For better or for worse, culinary school didn’t give me an option =P
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