A Mouthful of Marmalade

As you may have noticed, I'm running a bit late this week. I've been running here for dinner, here and here for meetings, and sneaking moments at the computer between meals and moments in the kitchen between assignments. And as my husband so aptly put it yesterday, we've generally been running around like two chickens with our heads cut off all week.

And yet I still found time to caramelize onions for an orange-honey-thyme-onion marmalade; the mere memory of it was enough to make me put down what I was doing and pause for a good, long while over the stove.

I don't think orange-honey-thyme-onion marmalade is this dish's exact name (nor should it be - it's a mouthful). But it does describe the exact mix of ingredients that come together to create the garnet-hued spread I first tried in the kitchen at Trellis. The chef uses this recipe as a way to preserve the many pounds of onions he harvests from his farm each year; for me, the girl without an onion patch to call her own, making this marmalade is just another excuse to go to my favorite grocer, unwind at the stove and then eat really, really well. 

This marmalade begins with slow cooking the onions, carefully as you don't want them to burn. Then you add a heap of sugar and, many minutes later, the wine, orange juice, honey and thyme that turn that pile of onions into a handsome spread.

You have to let it stew for awhile, and darn it if you don't take a taste now and then, just to see how the whole thing's progressing. Eventually, you'll pinch a piece from the pot and intuitively know that your work is done. Then you'll sample a larger bite, a spoonful maybe, just to make sure it's ready, and the flavors will jump out at you one after another - first the assertive orange, then the subtle thyme, the sweet, lingering honey and the softened wine, all clinging to a spoonful of silken onions as they slip across your tongue.

I wouldn't blame you if you ate that whole tangle of onions that way, spoonful after spoonful. But then you'd miss out on the meal I made: onion and pear topped flatbread. I didn't care to write down a recipe for it, as it's more a method than an exact science. First, I snatched off a bit of dough from the ball my husband made and formed it into a misshapen rectangle with rustic little rounded edges that I folded back over themselves to form just a hint of a crust. The marmalade, that went in the middle, topped with paper-thin slices of Asian pear. Then, I popped the whole thing in the oven and waited for it to crisp up. Granted, I should have been a bit more patient with my little pizette as it was disappointingly soggy in the middle. But with a mouthful of marmalade accompanying each bite, I barely noticed at all. 

Orange-Honey-Thyme-Onion Marmalade

If you are someone who wants a quick, 30-minute meal tonight, turn on Rachael Ray. This marmalade will take you a bit longer than that to prepare but then you'll have enough for a little pizette and a tiny jar of leftovers to accompany a cheese and cracker plate one night and garnish an arugula salad the next. 

1 pint orange juice

2 1/2 red onions, peeled and sliced into small slivers

1/4 cup olive oil

1/3 cup sugar

1/2 cup red wine

3 springs of thyme

Zest from 1 orange

1/2 cup honey 

In a small saucepan over medium heat, reduce the orange juice until you have 1/4 cup remaining.

Meanwhile, sweat the onions in the olive oil until they are translucent. Stir in the sugar and continue to cook the onions as they slightly caramalize. 

Add the red wine, orange zest and leaves from the thyme sprigs, and simmer slowly until the liquid is reduced by about half. 

Add the reduced orange juice and honey and simmer for 5 additional minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and cool. Store the onions in a lidded container in the fridge.

-Adapted from Chef Brian Scheehser of Trellis Restaurant