50 minutes, 6 onions

After our dinner party, my friend Sae busted out the Momofuku cookbook from his car and told me to "make something from this". Apparently Sae wants me to get learning.

Too bad for Sae, I don't think I can part with it for a while. I'm madly in love with this cookbook. I think it might even be just as much of a favorite as my beloved Zuni Cafe book (GASP!). The instructions are thorough and easy to understand, and the cussing words throw in between words like pork belly and asian pear brings it closer to *my* home.

And the recipes aren't that really fancy either. Sure, there's some haute shit on the Momofuku Ko section, but the early chapters are like, pickles and noodles and braised daikon. Something I'll actually have use for in my kitchen, instead of  lemon drop spheres or seaweed tuille. It's not pan asian, but still manages to meld the East and the West together. And they're relatively easy, if you're not a complete kitchen noob. Just a lot of tender loving care and downtime.

My first recipe to try out from the Momofuku book was not the pork belly ssam or the bacon broth ramen. Something easier and more everyday. Think slow roasted onions.

As I flipped through the pages of this beautiful book, I couldn't help but oggle at the page about the slow roasted onions. Slow roasted onions, by far, are not innovative. But it is time consuming, and easy to mess up.
BUT. But. David Chang's instructions are very, very easy to follow. So I made them.

Chang's recipe calls for 6 onions, nonreactive oil (think grape seed. OR canola.) and some kosher salt.

It also calls for 50 minutes of your precious time. 6 onions will reduce to almost a cup and a half of gooey sweetness.

So. What to do with your cup-and-half of slow roasted onions? You can make roasted rice cakes or kimchi stew, straight out of the book. But onions this sweet and brown, I could only think of one thing: flammenkuche.

Flammenküche, or tarte flambée, is a French dish from the Alsace region (like, borderline Germany). It's basically a farmer's thin crust pizza, made with fromage blanc and caramelized onions. I first had one at Church and State, when Walter Manzke helmed the kitchen, and remember being amazed by how sweet onions could get with proper handling. Which is why, you know, Chang's onions would be perfect for it.

Here's a really really simple recipe. Embarrasingly, it's more of a recipe list... But who cares? It fucking rocks.

Flammenkuche - makes 2 small pizzas, serves about 3-4

1 pound pizza dough
8 tbsp creme fraiche (or fromage blanc, if you're lucky enough to have it)
3/4 cup~1 cup roasted onions
1 bunch scallions, thinly sliced
4 oz bacon, chopped
3 oz grated Gruyere cheese
black pepper

Preheat oven to 425 farenheit.
Flour your cookie sheet (or pizza pan) and let your pizza dough sit for 20 minutes. Divide in half and hand stretch it into a thin crust.

Spread half of creme fraiche. Sprinkle half of the roasted onions, then bacon, and then sliced scallions. Sprinkle half of the cheese. Grind pepper over it generously, repeat with the other half of the dough.

Pop in oven for 10~15 minutes, until the bottom browns a bit.

We took cue from this article on CHOW, and paired it with a light pilsner/golden ale. 8 bucks for an 11 oz bottle is a bit steep for everyday boozin', but 50 minute onions deserve some effin' respect. Pizza and beer, it's like college but snazzier.

All of the ingredients are readily available at your neighborhood Trader Joe's (including the beer).

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Tagged as: cooking from a book, recipes