Sewing the Seeds of Love

I don't have the easiest family to get along with; in fact, much of the time we don't get along.  This could probably be posted by a large number of people.  I didn't feel this way for the first half of my life, but then, life happens.  People get mad at each other, people rub you the wrong way, people insult you, people point out your flaws.  These people are family.  Nobody makes me laugh harder, or cry harder than my family.  These are the people who know how to push my buttons. I was mad at some of them, most of them, all of them at one time or another, but they're all I've got.  I've decided to love them anyway.

French Onion Soup - Just Say No!

Back in the good old days of  The Peddler Steakhouse and Steak 'N Ale, there was a mysterious pot of dark amber goodness to be had....French Onion Soup.  Where I grew up in rural Indiana, we ate Campbell's Tomato soup (with our grilled cheese), Bean with Bacon (because my Dad loved it), and homemade vegetable soup. Nobody in our little nuclear family ventured outside of this trio until we were teenagers and were ready to explore "uptown" where there were exciting options in dining.  We had worked our entire lives nurturing family gardens. Raising and canning fruits and vegetables was a given, not something that was retro or cool.  It was commonplace to "stock" the giant freezer in the garage with half a cow, maybe a pig you split with another family member; along with some venison that your Dad or Uncle Fred had triumphantly added to the family cache.  The only "fancy" item in my vocabulary was when our family would occasionally cross over into fancy going out dining at Red Lobster.  I would always order Shrimp Creole.  I thought it was a fascinating removal from my ordinary life to order it.  I took great pride in being the only person in our family not ordering the fried Neptune Platter or Captain's Feast.  Fast forward to the first teenage trip to The Peddler or Steak 'N Ale.  Two bastions of mediocre steak and salad bars they were; but to someone who had been raised in a household without pretentious items, this was heady stuff.   Of course you would order the French Onion Soup as an appetizer!  It sounded fancy!  It sounded exotic!  Nobody I knew even vaguely understood what Gruyere cheese was, and I WANTED to know....it was the first step into a bigger world than the one I had inhabited up until that time and I wasn't going back!  For years, I ordered French Onion Soup in multiple restaurants, in multiple cities, and judged the entire restaurant on their presentation of this lone item. (I continue to do the same thing today, but only in Chinese restaurants and only with Hot and Sour soup).

As I've aged, I've realized that there are only two places you should ever eat French Onion Soup.  At home, where I follow the recipe published in Esquire magazine sometime in the late 80's, and in your office behind closed doors.  This is NOT a soup that should ever be eaten in the presence of someone other than an immediate family member or best friend.  It's a messy soup.  It's an impossible soup to eat without looking crazy with soggy bread and stringy cheese staring you down like a challenge.  You can eat it, but don't do it in mixed company.  Don't eat it when your boss takes you to lunch.  Don't eat it on a date, EVER.  The End.