Stone, Gold and the Age of Discoveries. Jerónimos Monastery in Lisbon

Today I would like to return to a place I visited quite a long time ago – more than ten years ago – but which has stayed in my memory ever since. At the time, however, I made a rather unfortunate mistake. While travelling to Portugal, I somehow managed to leave my proper camera at home. Instead, I had to rely entirely on the camera in my mobile phone – and this was long before mobile photography reached the level we take for granted today. The device I had with me simply could not capture much detail, and the photographs it produced were limited in both resolution and quality. For years I assumed that these images would remain nothing more than vague digital memories buried somewhere in an old archive.

Recently, however, I decided to try a small experiment. With the help of artificial intelligence, I uploaded those old files and asked the system to enhance them – to recover as much detail as possible and improve their resolution. To my surprise, the results turned out far better than I had expected. I managed to retrieve a handful of usable photographs taken in this place. They are still only fragments of what I saw back then, but they provide just enough of a visual anchor to revisit this impressive structure.

The Jerónimos Monastery (Mosteiro dos Jerónimos) in Lisbon is one of the most important historical monuments in Portugal and one of the places most closely associated with the country’s past. The complex is located in the Belém district, on the banks of the Tagus River, in an area deeply connected with the Portuguese Age of Discoveries. Construction began at the turn of the 15th and 16th centuries on the initiative of King Manuel I, and today the monument is included on the UNESCO World Heritage List (since 1983).

The monastery stands very close to the Tagus River and forms part of the characteristic historical landscape of Belém. When standing by the riverbank near the Belém Tower and the Padrão dos Descobrimentos – the Monument to the Discoveries – and turning one’s back to the river, the long and massive silhouette of the monastery appears in front of you. The building stretches horizontally across the space of Belém and immediately dominates the view. When standing the other way around – with your back to the monastery and facing the river – you see the two other great symbols of Portugal’s maritime past: the Monument to the Discoveries and the Belém Tower. Together with the monastery they form a distinctive historical ensemble that defines this part of Lisbon.

What can be seen from the river, impressive as it already is, actually represents only a part of the entire monastery complex. The long monumental structure visible from the direction of the Tagus is primarily the Church of Santa Maria de Belém, the central church of the Jerónimos Monastery and the most architecturally striking element of the ensemble. Behind it, however, extends a much larger monastic complex that is not immediately visible from the waterfront. There are the vast cloisters, arranged around a large square courtyard and famous for their richly carved Manueline arcades, which once formed the heart of monastic life. Around them were located the functional spaces of the monastery, including the chapter house, where the monks held their meetings, and the refectory, the communal dining hall. After the dissolution of the religious orders in the nineteenth century, parts of these former monastic buildings were repurposed, and today they house institutions such as the Maritime Museum and the National Archaeological Museum. What appears from the river to be a single monumental church is therefore only the visible façade of a much larger historical complex extending further inland through Belém.

The foundation of the monastery was directly connected with Portugal’s maritime expansion. Previously a small church stood on this site, where, according to tradition, Vasco da Gama prayed before departing for his voyage to India in 1497. King Manuel I decided to erect a monumental monastery here that would reflect the power of Portugal and the significance of its oceanic discoveries. The construction was financed partly through a tax on the spice trade arriving in Portugal from Asia, which further underlined the close connection between the building and the country’s global maritime network.

The monastery was entrusted to the Order of Saint Jerome, whose monks played a particular symbolic role during the Age of Discoveries. Among their responsibilities was praying for the king and for Portuguese sailors embarking on long and dangerous ocean voyages. In this way the monastery became not only an important religious centre, but also a place that symbolically accompanied Portugal’s maritime expansion.

Architecturally, the Jerónimos Monastery represents one of the finest examples of the Manueline style, a uniquely Portuguese form of late Gothic architecture. The style is characterised by extraordinarily rich decorative carving that blends plant motifs with maritime imagery and symbols of royal power. Among the decorative details one can recognise carved ropes, shells, exotic vegetation and symbols connected with the Age of Discoveries. Slender, intricately sculpted columns as well as monumental portals and cloisters together create one of the most recognisable architectural ensembles in Portugal.

Inside the monastery church – the central part of the complex – one can also find the tombs of important figures in Portuguese history. Among them is Vasco da Gama, one of the most famous explorers of the Age of Discovery. The church also contains the tombs of Portuguese monarchs associated with the Aviz dynasty, further emphasising the symbolic importance of the site as a monument to Portugal’s royal power and maritime achievements.

Although the church itself is a monumental structure of pale carved stone, some of the later chapels and altars create a striking contrast – richly decorated and literally dripping with gold, much like many other churches across Portugal where gilded baroque altarpieces became a defining element of the interior. This lavish decoration was largely the result of the immense wealth that flowed into Portugal during the centuries of maritime expansion and overseas conquest, when the country became one of the richest powers in Europe. One of the chapels I managed to photograph – although capturing all that shimmering gold without proper photographic equipment proved rather difficult – is a good example of such a space, overflowing with gilded ornamentation and centred around a sculpture of Christ lying in an open coffin.

This representation belongs to a long-standing Catholic devotional tradition known as the Dead Christ (often called Cristo Morto or Senhor Morto in Iberian countries). The sculpture depicts Christ after the Crucifixion and before the Resurrection, lying in a sarcophagus or open tomb and inviting contemplation of the Passion. In Portugal such figures are often placed in richly decorated side chapels and are sometimes associated with the rituals of Holy Week, when the moment between death and resurrection is symbolically commemorated.

The history of the monastery changed in the 19th century, when Portugal introduced the suppression of religious orders as part of liberal reforms aimed at reducing the political and economic influence of the Church. In 1834 many religious orders were dissolved and their monasteries and properties were confiscated by the state. As a result, the Jerónimos Monastery ceased to function as a monastic institution. The complex itself, however, did not lose its importance. Over time its spaces began to be used for museum and representative purposes, and today the monastery remains one of Lisbon’s most important historical landmarks.

As far as I remember, we actually had very little time to visit the site. In practice we managed to see only the church itself, and even that rather quickly. When planning our time in Lisbon, we essentially just passed through the church and skipped the rest of the monastery complex entirely. Shortly afterwards, however, we visited another convent – today the site of the Azulejos Museum – which surprised us just as much, with a chapel so richly gilded that the amount of gold decoration seemed almost unbelievable.

Even so, if I could go back in time – knowing what I know today and remembering the other monasteries we later visited in Portugal – I would certainly try to set aside at least an extra hour or two to explore the entire Jerónimos complex properly. The cloisters, the monastic spaces and the museums located there today would almost certainly have been well worth that additional time.

Stone, Gold and the Age of Discoveries. Jerónimos Monastery in Lisbon

Asia–Europe Trade Routes in the Shadow of Conflict

For the past three decades, Asia–Europe trade routes have operated in a relatively stable environment, disrupted only occasionally by minor incidents. The primary objective in logistics was simple: minimise costs wherever possible. Global trade – including trade with China – was widely seen as a remedy for Europe’s high production costs.

Today, however, it is becoming increasingly clear that this model is changing. In global logistics, transport costs are no longer the only decisive factor. Reliability, security, and predictable delivery times are becoming just as important. One of the most visible signs of this shift can be seen in recent developments in the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf – regions through which some of the world’s most important transport corridors linking Europe and Asia pass.

Although tensions in the Red Sea region are now largely associated with conflicts in the Middle East, the instability of this route has been emerging gradually over the past decade and a half. It has repeatedly shown just how vulnerable the trade connections between Asia and Europe are to disruptions in this region.

One of the first serious challenges was piracy off the coast of Somalia. At the turn of the first and second decades of the 21st century, the waters near the Horn of Africa became one of the most dangerous areas for commercial shipping. Somali pirate groups attacked merchant vessels, kidnapped crews, and demanded substantial ransoms for their release. Although piracy was not a state-driven conflict, its scale was significant enough for many countries to deploy naval forces to protect maritime routes. Joint patrols and new security procedures on board ships gradually brought the problem under control.

In the following decade, another source of tension emerged – this time linked to the civil war in Yemen. As the conflict unfolded, the Houthi movement took control of a large part of northern Yemen, including sections of the Red Sea coastline. Over time, the group began using its geographical position to target commercial vessels sailing close to the Yemeni coast. In some ways, this echoed the earlier problem of Somali piracy: once again, an armed group was operating along one of the world’s most important shipping routes. However, these attacks were more closely tied to regional political tensions and the broader conflicts of the Middle East. As a result, the risk of disruption in this part of the world never fully disappeared and continues to be factored in by shipping companies and logistics operators planning routes between Asia and Europe.

Attacks in the Red Sea region have prompted some shipping companies to alter their routes. Instead of sailing through the Suez Canal and the Red Sea, a number of vessels have begun avoiding the area altogether and travelling around Africa via the Cape of Good Hope. This detour adds several thousand kilometres to the journey between Asia and Europe and can extend transit times by well over a week or more. For global logistics, the consequences are very tangible: transport costs increase, delivery times become longer, and shipping lines need to deploy more vessels to maintain regular service schedules – which in turn pushes their costs even higher.

Another type of disruption occurred in 2021, when the giant container ship Ever Given ran aground in the Suez Canal and blocked the passage for other vessels. For several days, one of the main Asia–Europe trade routes was completely cut off. Hundreds of ships were forced to wait before they could pass through the canal, and global supply chains continued to feel the effects of the blockage for weeks afterwards. The incident demonstrated that even a single technical failure can cause serious disruption to the global transport system. It also highlighted how heavily modern world trade depends on the smooth functioning of a few critical maritime chokepoints.

Today, the Red Sea region also lies in the shadow of broader geopolitical tensions across the Middle East. Conflicts in this part of the world are increasingly multi-layered and rarely limited to direct confrontations between states. Alongside regular armies, a wide range of armed organisations, militias, and political groups operate there, often linked to wider regional power dynamics. As a result, it is difficult to speak of a single conflict; rather, it is a complex web of overlapping tensions stretching across both the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf. Conflicts of this kind are particularly difficult to resolve through a single intervention or agreement.

From the perspective of global logistics, this means that one of the world’s most important trade routes runs through a region that remains unstable. Piracy, the activities of armed groups, infrastructure incidents, and tensions between states can all affect the safety of shipping at any moment. As a result, shipping lines and logistics companies are increasingly treating the Red Sea not as a temporary problem, but as a permanent source of risk within the global transport system.

Although public discussion often refers simply to the route through the Suez Canal, in reality it is an entire system of interconnected seas and narrow maritime passages that together form one of the most important transport corridors in the modern world. A vast share of trade between Asia and Europe moves along this route – from containers carrying electronics and clothing to industrial components and energy resources.

Ships departing from East Asian ports – such as Shanghai, Shenzhen, Ningbo, or Singapore – first pass through the South China Sea and the Strait of Malacca into the Indian Ocean. They then sail along the southern edge of Asia towards the Arabian Peninsula and East Africa. At this stage of the journey, they approach one of the key chokepoints of the entire system – the Bab el-Mandeb Strait.

The Bab el-Mandeb Strait connects the Gulf of Aden, which forms part of the Indian Ocean, with the Red Sea. It is a narrow passage between the Arabian Peninsula and Africa. The northern shore lies along Yemen, while Djibouti and Eritrea sit on the southern side. After passing through the strait, ships enter the Red Sea – a relatively long and narrow body of water stretching between Africa and the Arabian Peninsula. At the northern end of the Red Sea lies the Suez Canal. This artificial canal in Egypt links the Red Sea with the Mediterranean. When it was opened in the 19th century, it dramatically shortened the sea route between Europe and Asia. Thanks to it, ships can sail directly from the Indian Ocean into the Mediterranean basin and then head towards ports in southern Europe – such as Piraeus, Gioia Tauro, or Valencia – or continue further to the major ports of northern Europe, including Rotterdam, Antwerp, and Hamburg.

The importance of this transport corridor is best illustrated by the scale of ship traffic. Tens of thousands of vessels pass through the Suez Canal each year. In practice, this means that several dozen ships transit the canal every single day – including large container vessels, tankers, and ships carrying a wide range of bulk cargoes. It is estimated that around 10–15% of global maritime trade moves through the Suez Canal, and in container shipping the share is even higher.

The entire Asia–Europe route through the Red Sea can therefore be seen as a system of several successive transport gateways. Each of these elements also represents a potential point of vulnerability for global transport. Disruption to shipping at any of them – whether caused by conflict, a technical incident, or security threats – can immediately affect trade flows between Asia and Europe.

The importance of the route through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal does not stem solely from its geographical position. Equally important are the economic consequences that arise when this connection is disrupted. Modern maritime transport forms the backbone of global trade, yet it is highly sensitive to changes in shipping security, route length, and delivery times. Each of these factors directly affects transport costs and the functioning of supply chains.

One of the first areas affected by disruptions along the Suez route is maritime freight rates. Maritime freight refers to the cost of transporting cargo by ship – most often calculated for a container or for a specific quantity of goods. In theory, maritime transport remains the cheapest way to move goods over long distances. In practice, however, freight rates are highly sensitive to geopolitical conditions and disruptions in transport. If risks emerge in a key region such as the Red Sea, shipping companies must include additional costs in their calculations. These may include higher insurance premiums, the need to implement vessel protection measures, as well as the risk of delays during voyages. In the past, regions affected by piracy also saw cases of ships being hijacked and large ransoms demanded for the release of crews and cargo. Although such incidents occur less frequently today than they did fifteen years ago, the mere possibility of them still affects how transport companies and insurers assess risk.

The second key factor is transit time. The route through the Suez Canal is the shortest connection between Asia and Europe. However, if shipping companies consider passage through the Red Sea too risky, vessels may be redirected along an alternative route around Africa – via the Cape of Good Hope. Such a decision has very concrete logistical consequences. Sailing around Africa means extending the journey between Asia and Europe by several thousand kilometres. In practice, the voyage may become longer by well over a week. For shipping lines, this primarily means higher fuel consumption and the need to keep vessels deployed for longer within a single transport cycle. As a result, the operational costs of the entire transport process increase.

A longer journey time has consequences not only for shipping lines but also for companies that rely on maritime transport. In global supply chains, an important concept is inventory in transit. This refers to the value of goods that are currently being transported between the producer and the buyer. If transport takes longer, the goods cannot be used in production or sold. The capital invested in them remains tied up in cargo that is still at sea. The higher the unit value of the goods being transported, the greater the economic importance of reducing transport time. In the case of high-value goods – such as electronics, industrial components, or automotive parts – extending transport by several days can have a real impact on companies’ operating costs.

In practice, disruptions along the route through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal can trigger a domino effect across the entire logistics system serving trade between Asia and Europe. Rising freight rates, longer transit times, and increased security risks mean that companies must adjust delivery schedules, inventory planning, and the organisation of transport along this route.

A project that has gained increasing attention over the past decade and a half in discussions about trade between Asia and Europe is the so-called New Silk Road. This initiative was launched by China as part of a broader economic and infrastructure strategy known as the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Its objective is to develop networks of transport and logistics connections linking the Chinese economy with markets across Eurasia, the Middle East, and Europe. From the outset, China’s policy towards this project has been highly proactive. The Chinese state has invested in the development of railway infrastructure, logistics terminals, and transport connections along the entire route from China through Central Asia to Europe. The project has been supported both through infrastructure investment and through various financial mechanisms designed to increase the attractiveness of transport along this corridor.

Within the Belt and Road Initiative, several different variants of transport routes have emerged. Some of them are maritime and run through the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. There are also land-based variants that cross the Eurasian continent. From the perspective of transport between China and Europe, the rail corridor is particularly important, as it enables the direct movement of goods between these regions by land. The main rail connections run from central and western regions of China through Kazakhstan, Russia, and Belarus to Central Europe. One of the key points along this route is the transhipment hub in Małaszewicze on Poland’s eastern border. It is there that a large share of rail transport from China enters the territory of the European Union.

One of the key characteristics of this connection is transit time. Freight trains operating between China and Europe usually cover this route in around 12–18 days, depending on the specific route and operational conditions. By comparison, maritime transport between Chinese ports and Europe typically takes between four and six weeks. This means that Eurasian rail transport allows goods to be delivered between these two regions significantly faster. However, rail transport cannot replace maritime transport in terms of the scale of shipments. Its role lies rather in handling part of the cargo that is more sensitive to delivery time.

At the same time, this route runs through regions of considerable geopolitical importance. The situation of this corridor changed markedly after the outbreak of the war in Ukraine in 2022. In the initial phase of the conflict, some logistics companies and transport operators began limiting the use of rail connections running through Russia and Belarus. This was primarily due to political uncertainty, concerns about sanctions, and the overall unpredictability of the situation in the region. As a result, in the first months after the start of the war, traffic along this route declined significantly and at one point fell to only around 10–15% of its previous transport volume. In public debate, there were even proposals to reduce the importance of rail routes passing through Russia and Belarus within the European transport system. The corridor, however, did not come to a complete halt. After the initial decline, rail transport gradually began to recover.

In the case of the New Silk Road, the key factor is above all trade between China and Europe, rather than the broader trade between Asia as a whole and Europe. It is also worth noting China’s recently announced new five-year plan. Increasingly, it points towards a shift away from a model based on the production of low-cost consumer goods and towards the production of goods with higher technological value. This implies a greater share of advanced industrial components, electronics, and technological products in Chinese exports, which – due to their higher unit value – are more sensitive to transport time and the cost of inventory in transit. This may further reinforce the trend of relocating the lowest-cost production from China to other countries in the region, such as Vietnam, Bangladesh, or India. In their case, maritime transport will most likely remain the dominant way of moving goods to Europe. China, by contrast, may continue to use the rail alternative, especially since Beijing possesses significant political and economic leverage that may help sustain the functioning of this transport corridor.

Publicly available data suggests that the current volume of traffic on the China–Europe rail corridor is around 2 million TEU per year. It is more difficult to indicate a single official figure for its maximum capacity, because this is not a single railway line but a system of several routes and terminals. It can nevertheless be assumed that the potential capacity of the corridor before it enters the European Union is higher than the current transport volume and, with further infrastructure development, could reach several million TEU annually. Infrastructure development plans in Małaszewicze (Poland) envisage capacity of around 500,000 TEU per year, although more ambitious logistics scenarios suggest that, with further expansion of terminals and improvements in traffic organisation, it could approach around 1 million TEU. The key question, however, concerns not only the terminal itself but also the capacity of Poland’s railway infrastructure, which would need to handle the onward transit of containers deeper into Europe. Container trade between China and Europe is currently estimated at around 20–25 million TEU per year. This means that even with capacity of about 1 million TEU, the Eurasian rail corridor would handle only a few percent of transport on this route, although its role in the overall structure of China–Europe transport could gradually grow if volumes continue to increase.

Apart from the maritime route through the Suez Canal and the northern rail corridor running through Russia and Belarus, other transport concepts linking China with Europe have also emerged. The most frequently mentioned alternative is the so-called Middle Corridor – a central transport route running through Central Asia, the Caucasus, and Turkey. In recent years, it has appeared increasingly often in logistics analyses as a potential route that could partially reduce the dependence of trade between Asia and Europe on corridors passing through Russia.

The Middle Corridor runs from western China through Kazakhstan, then across the Caspian Sea to Azerbaijan, and further through Georgia and Turkey to Europe. Unlike the northern rail route, however, it is not a single continuous railway corridor. Transport along this route operates in a mixed system – rail and maritime – because containers must be transhipped in ports on the Caspian Sea. This means additional logistics operations that extend transit times and increase costs. A second limitation of this route is infrastructure. Ports on the Caspian Sea and the railway network in the Caucasus region have significantly lower capacity than the northern Eurasian corridor. In practice, this means that the Middle Corridor may serve as a complementary route to other transport corridors, but for now its ability to handle very large cargo volumes remains limited.

An important factor is also the geopolitical situation in the region. This corridor runs through areas where political tensions and conflicts have occurred in recent years, particularly in the Caucasus and parts of the Middle East. In practice, this means that this transport option is not entirely free from risks associated with political instability.

Another variant that appears in logistics analyses is a corridor running through Ukraine, including the use of the broad-gauge LHS line reaching the terminal in Sławków. Under current conditions, however, its use is practically impossible due to the ongoing Russian–Ukrainian war, which has completely destabilised transport operations along this route. In some infrastructure concepts, this solution is considered as part of a broader transport system linked to the Middle Corridor, but its real significance could emerge only after the end of the conflict and the reconstruction of Ukraine’s transport infrastructure.

An important element of the northern transport system linking Asia and Europe is the Trans-Siberian Railway. For many years it served as the main land corridor connecting the Far East with Europe and formed a key part of the so-called Northern Eurasian Land Bridge. In practice, it was along this route that the first regular container services between China and Europe began to develop, even before the concept of the New Silk Road became widely recognised.

Over time, the role of this connection began to be taken over by new logistics corridors developed as part of China’s infrastructure initiatives, most notably the corridor running through Kazakhstan, Russia, and Belarus to transhipment terminals at the border of the European Union, particularly in the Małaszewicze area (Poland). However, after the outbreak of the Russian–Ukrainian war, the situation of these connections changed significantly. Transport between the transhipment hub near Moscow and the European Union declined markedly, which is visible in both rail and road traffic. At present, the role of the Trans-Siberian Railway in trade between China and Europe has clearly weakened. The line remains an important transport corridor, but it is increasingly used primarily for trade between Russia and China, as well as for the transport of raw materials and goods directed to Asian markets.

In the longer term, transport analyses point to another potential alternative – the so-called Northern Sea Route along the Arctic coastline. As Arctic ice continues to melt, the possibility of using this route as a shortened maritime connection between Asia and Europe is increasingly being considered. This results from the shape of the Earth itself: on flat maps the distances may appear similar, but in reality the Arctic route between Asia and Europe is significantly shorter. For example, a voyage from ports in eastern China to Northern Europe via the Suez Canal is around 20,000 km, whereas the Northern Sea Route could shorten this distance by roughly 30–40%, or about 6,000–8,000 km.

In a scenario of a full-scale conflict in the Middle East that led to a prolonged disruption of shipping through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal, the consequences for trade between Asia and Europe would be multi-dimensional. First of all, a large share of maritime transport would have to be redirected around the Cape of Good Hope. In practice, this means higher fuel consumption, longer utilisation of vessels within a single transport cycle, and the need to deploy a greater number of ships to maintain the same services, which usually leads to higher freight rates. Longer transit times also increase the cost of inventory in transit. In such a situation, part of the cost advantage of production in distant regions of Asia could begin to diminish, as the growing share of transport costs and delivery time affects the final price of goods. As a result, the prices of goods arriving from Asia to the European market could become more sensitive to changes in transport costs than during periods of stable shipping. This would be particularly relevant for products with higher unit value and for industrial components, where both transit time and the cost of inventory in transit play an important role in companies’ calculations.

In such a situation, the importance of alternative transport corridors could increase. A larger share of Chinese cargo – particularly shipments that are more sensitive to delivery time – could be redirected to the Eurasian rail corridor linking China with Europe through Russia and Belarus. In such a scenario, however, the key factor would be the geopolitical situation and the agreements between China and Russia ensuring the stable operation of this corridor.

It is also worth considering another scenario. If the disruptions currently affecting Asia–Europe trade routes were to persist over the longer term, companies might begin searching not only for alternative transport routes but also for different production locations. In such a situation, the trend already visible in recent years towards so-called nearshoring – relocating parts of production closer to end markets – could strengthen further. From the perspective of the European economy, this would mean a gradual shift of some manufacturing from distant regions of Asia to countries closer to Europe, as well as to Europe itself. Shorter supply chains would make companies less vulnerable to transport disruptions and reduce the risks associated with long and unstable logistics routes. In this sense, changes in international transport could become one of the factors accelerating broader shifts in the geography of production. Another possible alternative would be to reduce Europe’s current level of consumer excess – but that is a subject for another article.

Asia–Europe Trade Routes in the Shadow of Conflict

French Onion Soup

French onion soup (soupe à l’oignon) is one of the most recognisable dishes of French cuisine, although its origins are far older and far more modest than one might expect. Contrary to the modern image of it as a classic of Parisian bistros, the soup grew out of everyday cooking and for centuries was a simple, inexpensive and nourishing meal.

The foundation of the soup is the onion – a vegetable that was available throughout the year in Europe, stored well, and was among the cheapest ingredients in the household. As early as the Middle Ages, various forms of onion soups were prepared across different regions of France, usually based on water or a simple broth. They were part of the daily diet of both rural communities and city dwellers.

The modern form of onion soup began to take shape in the eighteenth century, when French cooking increasingly emphasised techniques that built flavour through the slow caramelisation of ingredients. Long, gentle cooking of onions in butter allowed their natural sweetness and depth of flavour to develop. Combined with beef stock, wine and herbs, this produced a soup with surprisingly rich character despite its very simple ingredients.

Paris played a significant role in the popularity of the dish. In the nineteenth century, onion soup became especially associated with the area around the great Parisian market halls of Les Halles. It was sold during the night and in the early morning in small eateries and bars serving the workers, porters and traders who worked at the market. Warm, aromatic and filling, the soup was an ideal meal for people finishing a night shift or beginning work before dawn. Over time it also became connected with the city’s late-night restaurants and cafés.

The element that is now most distinctive – the toasted bread topped with melted cheese – appeared later. The addition of baguette and cheese, most often Gruyère or Comté, gave the dish a more refined character. During baking, the cheese melts and lightly browns, forming a layer that links the crisp bread with the hot soup beneath. This feature has since become one of the most recognisable signatures of French onion soup.

Although the dish is most closely associated with France, similar onion soups exist in many parts of Europe. Italian cuisine includes onion soups enriched with bread and olive oil, while in Spain there are regional onion soups sometimes served with broth and egg. In Central Europe, onions have long formed the basis of simple vegetable soups. The French version, however, is distinguished by the particularly long caramelisation of the onions and the finishing step of baking the soup with bread and cheese.

Today French onion soup is both a home-style dish and a classic of restaurant menus. It can be found in traditional bistros as well as in contemporary restaurants, where it is often prepared according to a very classical method. It is a perfect example of a dish that began as humble everyday food and gradually became a symbol of French culinary tradition.

The ingredients for about 4 servings are:

  • 1 kg onions (about 6 large onions)
  • 2 cloves garlic
  • 40 g butter
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 litre beef stock
  • 150 ml dry white wine
  • 1 tablespoon plain flour
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 2 sprigs fresh thyme
  • salt
  • freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 baguette
  • 120 g Gruyère cheese (or Comté), grated

First prepare all the ingredients. Peel the onions, cut them in half, and then slice them into thin crescents. In this recipe the onion is the absolute foundation of the flavour, so it is important that the slices are fairly even – this allows them to caramelise at the same pace. Peel the garlic and finely chop it. The stock should be hot, or at least warm, so that when it is added to the pot it does not interrupt the cooking process.

In a large, heavy pot melt the butter together with the tablespoon of olive oil. The olive oil does not change the flavour of the soup, but it helps stabilise the temperature of the fat and prevents the butter from burning during the long cooking of the onions. Add all the sliced onions to the hot fat. At first the volume of onions will seem very large – however, it will reduce significantly as they cook.

Cook the onions over a medium heat, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon. At first the onions will become soft and translucent, and only later will they slowly begin to take on a golden-brown colour. This stage is the most important for the flavour of the soup and should not be rushed. The caramelisation should take around 30–40 minutes. The onions should become soft, deeply golden and naturally sweet, but never burnt.

Once the onions have reached a deep golden-brown colour, add the chopped garlic and cook for about a minute more, until it becomes fragrant. Then add the tablespoon of flour and mix it thoroughly with the onions. The flour will lightly thicken the soup later and help bring all the ingredients together into a cohesive broth.

Now comes the moment to deglaze the pot. Pour in the white wine directly over the onions and stir well, scraping the bottom of the pot with the spoon to release everything that has stuck during cooking. These browned fragments are extremely aromatic and form an important part of the soup’s flavour. Let the wine cook for a few minutes until the alcohol evaporates and the liquid reduces slightly.

Only then pour in the hot beef stock. The soup should now become clearly more liquid, though still rich with a large amount of onions. Add the bay leaf and the sprigs of thyme, season lightly with freshly ground black pepper, and allow the soup to simmer gently for about 15–20 minutes. During this time the flavours will come together and the soup will develop its characteristic depth of aroma. At this stage it is worth tasting the soup and only then adding salt if needed, as the stock itself can already be quite salty.

While the soup is simmering, prepare the croutons. Slice the baguette into fairly thick pieces. Arrange them on a baking tray lined with parchment paper and place them in an oven preheated to about 200°C. Toast them for a few minutes until they become lightly golden and crisp. They do not need to be deeply browned – the aim is simply to dry them slightly so they keep their structure once placed in the soup.

When the soup is ready, remove the bay leaf and the sprigs of thyme from the pot. Using a ladle, pour the hot soup into ovenproof bowls or small baking dishes. Place one toasted slice of baguette on top of each portion. The bread will usually rest partly against the rim of the bowl and begin to absorb some of the soup. Spread the grated Gruyère or Comté over the croutons. The cheese should cover the bread in a fairly even layer, but it does not need to be perfectly arranged – it will melt and spread naturally during baking. Place the bowls on a baking tray and put them under the grill in the oven. Bake for a few minutes until the cheese melts completely, begins to bubble, and turns lightly golden in places.

Remove the soup from the oven very carefully – the bowls will be extremely hot. Serve immediately. The cheese should be lightly browned and stretching, the crouton partly soaked with the aromatic soup, and the broth itself rich with caramelised onions.

Bon appétit!

You may also like the recipes for: German Potato and Sausage Eintopf, Lithuanian Cold Beet Soup, French Beef Bourguignon, East European Solyanka or New Zealand Chowder.

French Onion Soup