Into a large pot I fling butter. Or maybe I pour in olive oil. I turn the heat to one-third of the way and chop an onion – the first of three onions. It always starts with an onion.
It’s a rough chop because I’m going to blend it later. Or maybe it’s in slices for the curling sweetness of caramelization. Or maybe it’s finely diced to top perogies or a steak.
Did you know that you can buy bags of diced onions in the freezer aisle? I did not until I borrowed a Jamie Oliver cookbook from the library. The book was called One and its theme was one pot. I found most of the recipes uninspiring for my family, but it was through him that I discovered this time-saving hack. It’s especially handy for making miso gravy on the quick.
I put the chopped onion in the fat and stir it gently. I love frying onions, but this love bloomed later in life. When I was a child my mother used to grate all of the onions she used in her cooking. If I detected an onion I refused to eat the dish. I told her that onions would give me hairy arms. I told her that my Baba was the source of this undeniable fact. True to the proclamation I have hairy forearms and it’s my mother’s culinary covertness that I have to thank.
The onion heats and begins to fry. Its fragrance fills my small home and my husband enters. “What are you cooking? It smells wonderful.”
“It’s an onion.”
Once, I made carrot soup and gifted it to a co-worker. Later she asked me if there were onions in it. I said yes.
“I thought so. I can’t eat onions. I got so sick.”
What do you eat if you can’t eat onions? To this day I see this as the singular reason of why we had no chemistry and thus no friendship.
The onions water my eyes because they were a bit past their prime; a bit soft. I have to turn on the fan above the range. They will soon mellow and relent. I will add celery. Probably garlic. I will think about the onion’s relatives – the leaks and shallots that I buy on occasion when I feel fancy. I will think about my relatives who have taught me to cook using this perfect vegetable.
It always starts with an onion.
Dear ones, my show in Yorkton this afternoon has been rescheduled to February 4, 2024. My apologies for any inconvenience.
*full band
^duo with Bryn BesseNOVEMBER 5
RESCHEDULED FOR FEB 4, 2024
Parlour Barber Shop^
Yorkton, SK
belleplaine@belleplainemusic.com for ticketsNOVEMBER 18
Blenders Concert Series*
Swift Current, SK
with opener Dillion Currie
TICKETSDECEMBER 1
The Bassment*
Saskatoon, SK
TICKETSJANUARY 13
Red Lake Wilderness Entertainment Series*
Red Lake, ON
TICKETSJANUARY 14
Dryden Performing Arts Centre*
Dryden, ON
TICKETSJANUARY 15
Sioux Hudson Entertainment Series*
Sioux Lookout, ON
TICKETSJANUARY 17
Geraldton Concert Series*
Geraldton, ON
TICKET INFOJANUARY 18
Atitokan Entertainment Series*
Atitokan, ON
TICKETSJANUARY 19
Tour de Fort*
Fort Frances, ON
TICKETSJANUARY 20
T+A Garage*
Winnipeg, MB
tagaragemusic@gmail.com for ticketsFEBRUARY 3, 2024
Roots At Rusty’s^
Inglis, MB
lschlachter@xplornet.ca for tickets
You are too young to remember, but there was a cooking show called "The Urban Peasant" and he often said, "First thing you do is chop an onion, and while chopping it, think about what you are going to make for supper"
As it happens, I cannot eat onions either. Love the smell of onions cooking, even the taste, but alas genetics says 'No'! Like lactose intolerance, there's a certain type of sugar in onions, beets, etc. that I cannot digest (though I can handle small doses of beets).