Onions are the ur-vegetable, mentioned in the Bible and the Quran. The Egyptians revered them, seeing eternal life in their concentric rings. Jains won’t eat them, believing that, along with all vegetables that grow under the earth, onions contain infinite lives which must not be taken.  Prescribed by many as aiding digestion and reviled by others for heating the blood, onions have been a staple food since some hungry hominid first discovered their savory bite.  Julia Child wrote, “It is hard to imagine civilization without onions.”

Chopping onions is the original act where almost every meal begins. Remove the tip, halve and peel back the skin.  Grab the root to hold it in place and slice through the flesh, sharp milk welling on the blade. If the strokes are easy and even there is a slight hiss, a rhythm, and a feeling of satisfaction. 

Cooking onions is the place to begin if you don’t know what you’re beginning. A bit of olive oil or butter, the shimmer of heat, a soft sound and smell rising up from the pan.  Add some garlic, a bit of bacon, anchovy or tomato.  If it’s anchovy and tomato, you might as well add black olives and put it on pasta.  If it’s garlic, stir in shrimp and eat it with rice.  With the bacon you have the start of a chowder or pea soup, the foundation of a stew or the filling for quiche. 

“It is hard to imagine civilization without onions.”

Julia Child

It took me some time to realize that onions were not inert, that they are as alive as a tomato or a peach, and can’t be bought without considering quality or use.  Now I choose them carefully: annoyed when they are soft or sprouted, pleased when they are hard and their skins are stiff.  A similar revelation came to me about potatoes when I moved to Montreal:  some are good, some bad, some better one way, some another.  Growing up I had no use for potatoes.  Starchy, dry baked potatoes saved only by sour cream.  Tasteless mashed potatoes saved only by butter.  Now I love the smell of dirt from fresh potatoes, the dry nutty flavor of a ratte or the waxy sweetness of new red spuds.  Just the same as I like golden tender yellow onions in a tart, red onions with peppers, eggplant and zucchini for a summer lunch or crispy spring green onions with avocado and grapefruit. 

If there was a periodic table of vegetables, potatoes would be carbon, onions hydrogen, and garlic and tomatoes nitrogen and oxygen.  Potatoes lay down the backbone and onions give it punch.  Without tomatoes and garlic a dish cannot live or breathe.  With these elements, countless meals are built and their interactions create a range of flavors difficult to predict from the constituent parts.