Is there any more unsung hero in the kitchen than the humble onion, or its equally unheralded BFF, the garlic clove?
These cheap and versatile veggies are the culinary world's workhorses, playing a supporting role in so many dishes in so many cultures. Even the dual threats of bad breath and a teary-cutting experience can't diminish their universal appeal. Alliums, as they are known collectively, are one of the world's oldest cultivated plants and have been used to flavor food since at least 5000 B.C.
So how'd they become the Rodney Dangerfield of vegetables?
"We take them for granted," says Kate Winslow, who grew up in Pittsburgh and worked as an editor at Gourmet. "So you kind of forget, and think they're just for seasoning."
Yet it's only with the aromatic addition of alliums that a clever cook can build something perfectly delicious to eat, she says. And to prove her point, she and her photographer husband Guy Ambrosino spent six straight months devising the ultimate guide to cooking with leeks, scallions, garlic, shallots and every other sort of onion.
"Onions Etcetera: The Essential Allium Cookbook" is bound to blow you away with its gorgeous photos and mouthwatering collection of recipes. Winslow's prose also is delectable, with breezy tales of the couple's cooking life interspersed with practical tips on how to, say, clean leeks or peel pearl onions. You also find bits of onion history (revered in French cooking, shallots originated near Palestine), and memories of where certain dishes were first tasted and how/why they were replicated.
When it comes to Ambrosino's great-aunt Aggie's "fried water" soup, it's hard not to spring out of bed and sprint to the kitchen to make it. Ditto with the beer-battered onion rings. You'll feel the same way, too, about many of the book's 100-plus recipes, which are arranged according to color and/or season.
First come the "keepers," or the yellow, white and red storage onions one always has on hand. There also are chapters devoted to sweet onions; scallions and chives; shallots and leeks; pearl onions and button-shaped cipollini; and the fleeting "early bird" ramps, spring onions and green garlic/garlic scapes.
Some of the recipes use alliums in supporting roles, such as the leeks that team up with fresh dill and feta in a creamy spring tart. Others allow onions to boldly headline _ for instance, grilled as a taco filling or fried with a bit of chili, curry and cassava flour into a golden, crispy fritter.
"These are recipes that we love and that mean something to us, that resonate deeply on an emotional and historical level," Winslow writes. "Turns out we, like everyone else, come from a long line of onion eaters."
How did she go from amateur eater to cookbook author? Her parents both were teachers, so it wasn't a reach to consider a career in journalism when she graduated from the University of Virginia in the mid-1990s; her degree in women's history included a thesis on women's newspaper pages during the Great Depression. But specializing in food? Not exactly a life goal.
Not that she didn't have a deep connection to all things culinary: She grew up in a family that loved to cook and entertain. Their annual open house on New Year's Day in Edgewood (and the traditional German meal that followed) was "epic," complete with bloody marys, spinach dip in a bread bowl and platters of smoked sausages.
She took a summer job after college as a cook at a ranch in the wilds of Wyoming, but that was more for fun than professional development. It wasn't until she followed some fellow UVAers to Santa Fe, N.M., that she turned to writing.
Her friends eventually all moved away, but Winslow stayed on, taking a job as an arts editor with a weekly newspaper. Ambrosino, who grew up in a big Italian family in New Jersey, just happened to be the staff photographer, and well, you know where that goes. As Winslow's job duties expanded to include a food column, so grew their love affair, fanned by the many meandering conversations that took place around the kitchen table. "And that is still one of our favorite places to be," she writes. "We have always loved to bring people together, especially over food."
In 2003, the couple headed back East, first to Philly and later to New York City, where Winslow took a job as a book editor at Gourmet magazine and her husband set up a photo studio. All the while, she says, they explored various cuisines, gathering recipes like taste souvenirs.
After helping to edit and write the head notes for Gourmet's big yellow cookbook, Winslow switched over to the magazine as an editor writing copy for recipes. Working for Ruth Reichl "was a bizarre dream come true," she recalls, not to mention a delicious education.
As their family expanded to include a son, the excitement of Big City living wore off. So in 2009, they packed up their tiny apartment in Brooklyn and headed for Sicily. A six-week sabatical stretched into a months-long visit during which both ended up working at a cooking school. The experience proved tasty fodder for their first cookbook in 2012, "Coming Home to Sicily."
One food in particular bubbled in the back of the couple's heads upon their return to New Jersey in 2010 _ onions. In particular it was Italy's sweet and famous cipolla di Tropea, a red variety that grows along the coast in the Calabria region. In Sicily, Winslow recalls, everything begins with red onions, "and we got into that habit." To this day, she has a soft spot for red onions.
It was during a visit to the Strip District in the fall of 2014 that the seeds for "Onions Etcetera" first were sown. Walking on Smallman Street, Winslow happened to peek into one of the 19th century produce warehouses and saw that it was filled with bags and bags of onions. The image stuck with her. A few months later, when a publisher they'd done a few projects with, asked for some new ideas, a second cookbook on alliums proved to be the answer.
Winslow says she hopes the recipes she and her husband have gathered will serve as an inspiration for meals instead of an aspiration. "I want it to be super useful, so people can dive in and make dinner from it."
That said, the book does include some project-oriented dishes, including one for onion bialys and another for pierogies that replicates the pillowy, butter-slicked dumplings her Polish great-great aunt from Morningside fed her as a child.
You'll also find pastes and sauces, such as homemade harissa and chermoula, that can live in your fridge for a long time, just waiting for the opportunity to serve as building blocks for a quick and flavorful dinner.
For such a common vegetable, "there's so many things you can do with it," she says.
