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

Exploring the Historic Town of Morlaix in Brittany

A few years ago, we spent several days travelling through the French regions of Normandy and Brittany. Naturally, we visited the famous Mont St. Michel Abbey and the Allied landing site in Normandy at Arromanches. However, our main activity was travelling between towns and villages, admiring (and photographing) the local historical architecture, much of which dates back to the late Middle Ages. We weren’t fortunate with the weather, as it was either extremely hot or raining. Since I wasn’t the one planning the trip, at some point, I lost track of where we were. After several days of visiting up to three different places in a single day, it wasn’t difficult to get a bit confused. I only remembered the most distinctive buildings or locations, which later as I was reviewing photos made it fairly easy to piece together where we had been.

Today, I want to focus on the charming town of Morlaix in Brittany, located in the scenic river basin of the Dossen, which flows into the English Channel near the Celtic Sea. This historic town is not only known for its picturesque landscapes but also for its rich medieval history and unique architectural heritage. Morlaix was once a thriving centre for trade, particularly in linen, and its port remains active to this day.

I’ve mentioned Morlaix before on this blog when I wrote a short note about the famous railway viaduct that dominates the town’s skyline. This two-level railway viaduct, built in the 19th century, is an architectural marvel and offers panoramic views of the town and the surrounding area.

Viaduct of Morlaix

The origins of Morlaix can be traced back to the Roman era, though it truly began to flourish in the Middle Ages. By the 11th century, it had become an important port and trading centre, benefiting from its coastal location and connection to the sea. During this time, Morlaix developed strong ties with England and other parts of Europe, trading goods such as linen, salt, and wine. In the 14th and 15th centuries, Morlaix was fortified to protect against frequent English raids as well as potential French incursions, reflecting Brittany’s broader efforts to maintain its independence during that era. In the early 16th century, Brittany came under the French crown through the marriage of Duchess Anne of Brittany to two successive French kings, Charles VIII and Louis XII. Despite this union, Morlaix was besieged and captured by the English in 1522, though it was later retaken by the French.

The 16th century saw Morlaix’s prosperity continue, particularly through its thriving linen trade. The town became famous for its production and export of toiles de Morlaix (Morlaix cloth). This period of economic growth led to the construction of many grand houses by wealthy merchants, some of which still stand today. During World War II, Morlaix suffered damage from Allied bombings aimed at disrupting German supply lines, but many of its historic buildings survived.

Today, Morlaix’s historic centre is well-preserved gem of medieval architecture, characterised by narrow, winding streets lined with half-timbered houses, some dating back to the 16th century. These traditional Breton houses, known as maisons à pondalez, are notable for their unique design, featuring internal wooden staircases and large fireplaces. One of the most famous examples is the House of the Duchess Anne, which serves as a museum today.

House of the Duchess Ann

The name of the house is more symbolic than direct, as Anne of Brittany is a celebrated historical figure in the region. She represents the last period of Breton independence before the duchy was absorbed into France. Naming significant buildings after her was a way to honour her legacy and her efforts to preserve Breton autonomy. As the last independent ruler of Brittany, she fought to maintain the duchy’s autonomy but was ultimately compelled to marry into the French crown, leading to the permanent union of Brittany with France.

Morlaix is not just a town with a rich past; it’s a destination that invites visitors to step back in time and explore the beauty of Brittany’s medieval heritage.

Exploring the Historic Town of Morlaix in Brittany

The Republican Calendar. A curious way of showing disregard

Sometimes, new political powers that come into office reject everything done by the predecessors. Sometimes it is a truly curious way of showing disregard.

Through history revolutionaries turned into vandals, destroying everything associated with the past.

This insistence took also other forms, such as making life difficult for everyone just to throw away even the most reasonable solutions intoduced by the ovethrown power. Let the people be tormented; whatever the predecessors did must be tossed into the bin. In this context, having in mind my later post, let me talk quite a folly committed by the French revolutionaries in an attempt to distance themselves from the Catholic Church. Not that I don’t appreciate what the French Revolution brought to Europe. It was a painful process, but it granted us Europeans civil rights that made our lives easier. However, in introducing the Republican Calendar, the French revolutionaries simply went overboard lossing any reason.

Pope Gregory XIII, who commissioned the Gregorian Calendar, and the National Convention that implemented the Republican Calendar in France.

The Republican Calendar, also known as the French Republican Calendar, reflects the revolutionary spirit of the French Revolution. Adopted during a time when France was undergoing a major ideological and societal transformation, this calendar aimed to break free from the traditional Gregorian calendar, which was associated with monarchy and religious traditions (>>>).

Introduced in 1793 by the National Convention, it played a significant role in the broader initiative for decimalization in France. It was not merely a means of timekeeping, but a symbol of the revolution’s desire to rid itself of religious and royalist influences. In addition to the calendar, this comprehensive effort included the introduction of decimal time, currency, and metrication, which aimed to standardize and simplify (!) various aspects of daily life.

The Republican Calendar consisted of twelve months, each with unique names inspired by nature, seasons, and agricultural activities. For the autumn season, the calendar included the months of Vendémiaire (Vintage), Brumaire (Mist), and Frimaire (Frost). These months, starting on September 22nd, 23rd, or 24th, marked the transition from summer to winter. As winter arrived, the Republican Calendar continued with the months of Nivôse (Snowy), Pluviôse (Rainy), and Ventôse (Windy). These months, starting on December 21st, 22nd, or 23rd, captured the essence of the colder months and the changing weather patterns. With the arrival of spring, the Republican Calendar embraced the months of Germinal (Germination), Floréal (Flower), and Prairial (Meadow). These months, starting on March 21st or 22nd, April 20th or 21st, and May 20th or 21st respectively, were associated with the renewal of life, blooming flowers, and the lushness of meadows. Finally, the calendar entered the summer season with the months of Messidor (Harvest), Thermidor (Summer Heat, sometimes referred to as Fervidor or Burning Hot), and Fructidor (Fruit). These months, starting on June 19th or 20th, July 19th or 20th (Thermidor/Fervidor) and August 18th or 19th, marked the peak of agricultural activities, when the harvest was gathered and fruits ripened.

One of the most notable aspects of the Republican Calendar was the shift from a 7-day week to a 10-day week. Each month consisted of three ten-day weeks, known as “decades,” totaling 30 days. Each day was divided into ten hours, each hour into 100 decimal minutes, and each decimal minute into 100 decimal seconds. Thus an hour was 144 conventional minutes.

There was also a problem with the leap year rule for the Republican Calendar, for which the Gregorian principles were proposed. The proposal faced challenges and was never adopted. Its advocate Gilbert Romme was sentenced to the guillotine and committed suicide.

While this change aimed to reflect the decimal system, it faced practical difficulties. After the fall of Maximilien Robespierre in 1794 efforts were made to revert to more traditional practices, including the use of the Gregorian calendar. Finally, in 1806, under the rule of Napoleon Bonaparte, the Gregorian calendar was officially reinstated.

Today, the Republican Calendar serves as a historical curiosity and a testament to the radical changes brought about by the French Revolution. Nonetheless, it remains an enduring symbol of France’s revolutionary past and the determination of the French people to reshape their society in a profound way.

The Republican Calendar. A curious way of showing disregard