Wednesday, 25 January 2012

Pissaladière


You know how sometimes, if you want to describe a boring individual with very little personality, you can refer to them as 'vanilla'? Meaning they're a bit bland, a safe bet, perfectly pleasant but nothing to go wild over. Average. 

Suddenly it seems to me that this is a rather inappropriate label. Surely, if we want to describe the mundane, the everyday, the tame, the insipid, we should refer to them as 'onion'.

Let's face it, no one goes wild over onions. Onions are the safe bet. The best friend that you'll always rely on and love in a strictly platonic fashion but who will never set your loins aflame. The boy that all the girls call 'sweet', which - if you're a man I'm sure you know this already - is the kiss of death as far as romantic opportunity is concerned. The trusty shoulder to cry on, dependent and reliable but always hiding back from the limelight. 

Vanilla, by comparison, seems positively exotic and exciting, suggesting secret whispers in the dark, clandestine meetings, breathless laughter, a wave of musky perfume carried on a gentle evening breeze. Vanilla speaks of secrets and seduction, of the faraway and desirable. The poor onion doesn't stand a chance.



We do, however, depend on onions. I'd wager that around eighty percent of savoury recipes call for the inclusion of at least one of these golden bulbs. They provide a depth, a richness, an earthy foundation of flavour that is hard to come by using any other ingredient. I know this, from the many times I've ransacked the fridge, always assuming there must be a stash of onions in there, only to find that we're out of them and I have to trek to the corner shop because there is nothing else I can substitute. They are a stalwart of cooking, one you always assume will be around to help you out.

However, there are a few recipes that showcase the humble onion, giving it the starring role it so desperately craves as it sits at the back in a stew, soup or risotto, watching the meat or other vegetables getting all the attention and crying silently into its papery skin. 

Onion soup is one, of course. A melting, burnished fusion of earthy goodness topped with that most delectably simple of creations: cheese on toast. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that, for most people (including myself), it is the cheese on toast that makes them want to eat onion soup. 

To unleash the full potential of the onion, you have to caramelise it. You have to finely slice it and then fry it slowly in sizzling butter or oil, over a low heat, until what were tough, crunchy crescents of translucent flesh soften into a melting, unctuous tangle of slippery, sweet, savoury goodness. Even better if you add a pinch of brown sugar to bring out the sweetness, and a splash of balsamic to heighten the savoury sensation. There is very little that caramelised onions will not partner happily with, but, for me, they are at their most outstanding when paired with goat's cheese and rocket on some form of bread base.

The reason behind my quest for an eye-opening onion recipe lies in my receiving some onions from Good Natured (sold in Asda) to sample. The Good Natured brand means all crops are pesticide free, using natural predators to control pests. On top of these worthy credentials, their jaunty packaging is somewhat nicer than the soulless, identikit supermarket stuff you see day after day. I've tried a few of their products recently - the little crunchy cucumbers are particularly good (you're unlikely to find mini ones anywhere else, and they have a lot more flavour than your average 'cumber) as are the cherry tomatoes. 

This, then, is the best way I can think of to showcase the humble tastiness of a pile of caramelised onions. It's southern France's answer to a pizza: pissaladière.


I first came across this on a holiday in Nice, where it is sold everywhere by the slice out of giant, battered-looking trays. It's a laughably simple combination of bread dough, caramelised onions, black olives and anchovies. These decidedly un-flashy ingredients fuse together to form something far greater than the sum of its parts. The soft tangle of onions coupled with the dough, moist where they've soaked into it and crispy around the edges, is intensely comforting. Add the satisfying saltiness of olives and anchovies to counteract the sweetness of the onions, and you have something outstanding.

Humble, yes, but outstanding nonetheless. This is a great recipe for reminding ourselves just how much we owe the onion

Incidentally, if you're having problems with the tear-factor involved in chopping onions, Good Natured suggest running them under cold water or splashing white vinegar on the chopping board when cutting them.

I, however, have a simpler solution: wear contact lenses.

Do you have any favourite onion recipes that make the most of this kitchen staple?


Pissaladière (serves 4-6):

20g fresh yeast
3/4 tsp sugar
180ml warm water
200g strong white bread flour
130g strong wholemeal flour
3/4 tsp salt
1.5 tbsp olive oil

3 tbsp garlic-infused olive oil (or normal olive oil)
A bunch of thyme, leaves picked
8 medium onions (about 1.5kg)
1 can anchovies in oil
A couple of handfuls of black olives, pitted
Salt and pepper

First, make the dough. Stir the yeast into the warm water and sugar and leave until frothy. Put the salt and flours in a large mixing bowl and make a well in the middle. Add the olive oil and the yeast mixture and mix together to form a dough (add a little more water if it seems too dry). Knead for 10 minutes until smooth and elastic (or use the dough hook function on an electric mixer for 10 minutes), then place in a bowl and cover with a teatowel. Leave to rise in a warm place until doubled in size - this should take 1-1.5 hours.

Meanwhile, make the onion topping. Peel and slice the onions very finely (a mandolin cutter is ideal for this, if you have one). Heat 1 tbsp of the garlic oil in a large pan over a medium heat and fry the onions until translucent, along with 1 tbsp of the thyme leaves. Turn the heat down low and cook them for about 30 minutes until very soft, sticky and golden. Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

When the dough is ready, pre-heat the oven to 220C. Roll the dough out to a large rectangle about 1.5cm thick. Spread the onions over the top, scatter over another 1 tbsp thyme leaves, then slice each anchovy fillet lengthways into 3 or 4 slices. Arrange these over the onions in a criss-cross pattern, placing an olive in each diamond. Leave for 15 minutes in a warm place, then put in the oven and bake for 20-25 minutes until crispy and golden brown around the edges.

Serve with a green salad.


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5 comments:

  1. Yes yes yes completely agree, the use of "vanilla" as shorthand for boring is so unfair on the beautiful spice... ye olde plain vanilla ice creams of my childhood, which probably came no nearer to any real vanilla seeds than cheap chocolate comes to cocoa butter, they definitely deserved the epithet. But real vanilla, with its heady scent, rich inky blackness and beautiful taste can surely not be dull by any measure?

    Then again, neither is onion, I think, though it is so solid and dependable...

    Great post!

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  2. Another great post and another great recipe. I agree with you about caramelising onions. It just turns them into something extra special. I love making a caramelised onion tart, favourites being with grainy mustard and fennel, with mustard and mint, and with goat's cheese. I also have a great recipe for a very simple puff pastry pie with roasted butternut squash, caramelised onions and feta. A great tip for avoiding watery eyes is to use a mini chopper or food processor, with blade or slicing attachment, as appropriate, although it does feel a bit like cheating!

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  3. Onions are definitely an underrated ingredient - they add depth of flavour and texture and so many dishes would be lost without them. I love the idea of using onion as the star of the show, and combining it with salty anchovies and olives is my idea of heaven. I've made this with a puff pastry base before (that's how they used to make it in a restaurant I worked in) and it's heavenly - a little greasier but works well with all those big salty flavours.
    Gorgeous pics btw!

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  4. Caramelised onions are amazing. I do adore them with an anchovy or two. Add a bit of anchovy paste or Gentlemen's Relish under the cheese on your onion soup and bingo! The whole thing is even better.

    I did some stuffed onions recently and am a convert to onions as the star of the show now. I'm going to have to try this recipe next. And if you find the onions make you teary, run your wrists under cold water to stop it. Works everytime for me!

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  5. Onions are my desert island ingredient!! and my favourite onion recipe is (you guessed) pissaladiere :) Lovely post and pics.

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