French Onion Tart

I first came across the idea of this tart reading Elizabeth David. She talked of an onion-anchovy pissaladiere that was, in her view, what "pizza" is supposed to be. (She has a bit in An Omelette and a Glass of Wine wherein she discusses the "debasing" of pizza).

I love onions but until I read of this onion tart, had never considered that onions could hold their own place as the main feature of a dish (French onion soup doesn't really count because the success of that is based on the depth of flavor in the broth and the cheesiness of the crouton).

My version of this tart is all about the onions. I don't use anchovies and only occasionally add good black Nicoise or Kalamata olives. Most usually it is just gorgeous thick slices of sweet onion, cooked slowly in butter and oil until they turn into deep mahogany brown morsels of concentrated flavor. Storage onions can be used in this recipe, in the winter, when fresh sweet onions are unavailable (or too dear...we've already discussed this) but in that case you will likely need to add a sprinkling of sugar to help the onions yield up their essence. Generally speaking I consider this a summer dish.

It is lovely all on it's own with a nice glass of crisp white wine. Served as a side dish, it will nudge a simple bowl of tomato soup to elegant heights.

French Onion Tart

Preheat oven to 425°.

For the crust:

2 T. yeast
2 t. sugar
1 c. warm water
2 T. olive oi
l2 t. salt
1 c. whole wheat pastry flour
3 c. (or more) all-purpose flour

Place yeast, sugar and water in bowl of a standing mixer and let sit until yeast begins to foam and bubble. Add in the olive oil and salt. With dough hook attachment, work in the whole wheat flour and then begin adding the all-purpose flour until you form a ball of dough that holds it's shape and is not sticky. Turn out on a floured board and knead until smooth and elastic. Oil the mixing bowl and return dough to it, turning once to coat. Cover with a damp towel and set in a warm spot to rise until double. Punch down and let rest for a few minutes.

Press dough out into an oiled tart pan (or pizza pan or sheet pan...whatever you prefer). Place in oven for about 8 minutes to set the crust.

For the onion filling:

1-2 T. butter
1 T. olive oil
3-4 large sweet onions*, peeled, cut in half and then sliced medium thick (not too thick, but not too thin)
2-3 t. fresh chopped rosemary
1 T. Herbes de Provence
1 handful of Nicoise (or Kalamata) olives, pitted and chopped (optional)

Melt the butter over medium high heat in a large heavy skillet (preferably cast iron if you have it and if you don't, you really should get one). Add oil to keep butter from browning.

Add in the onions. Keep an eye on them to begin with, stirring often so they cook evenly. You want them to turn a nice soft shade of brown but you don't want them to be crisp. Adjust the heat if you need to.

When onions are yielding and a good nutty brown, lower heat and continue cooking until they are a deep shade of brown and richly fragrant. Stir in the rosemary and herbes de Provence.

Remove from heat and spread over prebaked crust. Sprinkle with olives, if using.

Bake tart for about 15-20 minutes, until crust is golden brown.

* Remember that onions are largely water so they are going to reduce radically in volume. You have enough if your pan is about half full. If you have more than you need for the tart just stick them in a plastic bag and use later in the week for another dish.

A Taste of Chicago: Deep Dish Pizza

I fell in love with Chicago. Hard. Not enough to do anything rash. I remain faithful to my beloved Seattle. But something got to me in that toddlin' town that hasn't happened in many other places. I've been to cities where I've said, "I could live there" and mean it. But with Chicago, I kinda actually do want to live there. Again, no rash moves are being planned. Should I, however, fall into a bucket of money in the near future, purchase of a superfantastic downtown Chicago condo would be the first order of business.

So what was it about Chicago that got to me so much? I'm still mulling that. Certainly it has to do with the friends we have there, who are intelligent, generous, kind and funny people. But it was also the way the city felt, and that's something harder to pinpoint. I just liked the way it felt on the streets, the way it felt to sit on the 49th floor of the Marina Towers, drink my coffee and gaze at the drawbridges over the Chicago River. It was something to do with the way the new architecture of the city lives cheek by jowl with the older buildings. It had to do with the livability of the city...how the downtown was a neighborhood full of people of all ages and colors with the necessary amenities of laundries and groceries and such within walking distance. And that is something (and I've lived downtown, so I know) Seattle has yet to really manage. The city itself is quite livable, the downtown core, not so much.

But as I mull the sights and sounds of Chicago and how they got to me, I do know that one part of my new-found love owes to one magical thing: deep dish pizza.

I love pizza. We have it just about every Friday night. Pizza and a movie. It's our thing. And both The Spouse and The Child make a good pie. (So do I but I like letting the pizza making thing be theirs). We make our own, using a basic foccocia dough recipe that I've had for years. The Spouse has his own special pizza sauce, which is nothing more than this:

The Spouse's Pizza Sauce
1 tin organic tomato sauce
2 cloves garlic, minced fine
2 or so T. dried oregano
2 or so T. dried basil
smidge of salt
glug of red wine

He lightly cooks the garlic in a little olive oil and then adds in the other ingredients and lets them slowly cook on the stove during the whole time he's preparing the pizza dough. It's a rich sauce, dark with the herbs and wine and full of flavor.

Our standard pie usually includes sauteed onions, roasted red peppers, olives, some sort of pizza meat (pepperoni, sausage or sometimes prosciutto) and a cheese blend of fontina and mozzarella. Sometimes there are fewer ingredients, sometimes more depending on whim and hunger. The crust is always nice and plump. I don't care much for thin crust pizza...I like the luxury of a nice bready base for all the oozing, melting toppings. I am also one of those people who rarely eats my crust ends. Which it's why it's sorta funny to me that I would become so enamored of deep dish, because crust ends are key there.

A quick Google search shows me that there are 2 places in Seattle that make deep dish pizza. Both are in the north end of town. I live in the south end. I began to lament that deep dish is something I would have to work to get. I love it, but I also want to enjoy it in the comfort of my own home, in front of my own big screen TV.

I whined about this to The Spouse. "I know how to make deep dish pizza," he said, oh so casually. 16 years and he still has the power to surprise.

"You do???"

He looked at me with surprise, like his deep dish pizza making abilities were legend and I hadn't been paying attention. "Sure. I used to work in a pizza place that made deep dish. It was called "Chicago's", remember?"

And then I did remember. I remembered the place, used to be located near the Seattle Center and always busy. I also vaguely recalled that in true old Chicago style there was some nefarious reason why the place eventually closed. The upshot of all this, of course, is that The Spouse offered to make that week's pizza in the style I so craved.

I asked if he had a recipe. He looked at me oddly. "The one I always use is fine. I just need a deep dish pan".

"Like a cake pan?"

"Sure".

(While I was grocery shopping I picked up a couple of 9" pans...nice ones with a flanged edge. I didn't think my 8" pans were quite enough to hold what I dreamt of).

Friday came and The Child was sleeping over at a friends. We'd have a whole pie to ourselves. Bliss.

He started the sauce and began the dough.

Pizza Dough

2 T. yeast
2 t. sugar
1 c. warm water
2 T. olive oil
2 t. salt
4 c. (or more) all-purpose flour

Place yeast, sugar and water in bowl of a standing mixer and let sit until yeast begins to foam and bubble.

Add in the olive oil and salt.

With dough hook attachment, begin working in the flour to form a ball of dough that holds it's shape and is not sticky.

Turn out on a floured board and knead until smooth and elastic.

Oil the mixing bowl and return dough to it, turning once to coat. (Yes, you read that right. Put the dough back in the mixing bowl. There is no sense in dirtying up 2 bowls when making bread).

Cover with a damp towel and set in a warm spot to rise until double. Punch down and let rest for a few minutes before proceeding with the pizza-making.

Preheat oven to 425°.

Unos Pizza in Chicago lays claim to being the birthplace of deep dish. One of their signature tricks is that the cheese goes on the crust first, before the sauce. So The Spouse tried that, laying slabs of mozzarella down before giving them a (slighty too thick) coat of sauce and topping it all off with some fresh basil leaves.

About 25 minutes later it was done.

It was glorious, the crust perfectly brown and crispy, the cheese thick and silky. There was, as I mentioned, a bit too much sauce on the pie but because it was on top it was easy to scrap off. And the extra made a nice dipping sauce for the ends of crust, which I uncharacteristically ate.

The only other note: next time we'll have to make at least 2 as the pair of us dispatched this tidy little pie with ease. A taste of the Windy City in the Emerald City. I am satisfied.