03.5.2012 "Ode to the Onion" by Pablo Neruda + Onion Galette with Blue Cheese & Honey
"Under the earth the miracle happened."
Consider the onion. You probably have a bowl of them in your pantry, or one or two tucked next to the glossy tomatoes or near the garlic. They wait where we leave them, to be peeled and minced, to give a backbone to our next recipe. All this without the fanfare or praise or notoriety we give to others, sometimes purely on the basis of aesthetics. Figs, melted chocolate, well-styled cheese platters and fizzy cocktails come to mind. The onion, by comparison, is plain and ordinary.
But Pablo Neruda knew a little something about the ordinary, so much so that he wrote an entire series of odes in praise of objects or foods we pass by in our lives without ever giving attention to, like chairs or tables, even mayonnaise. Today, the onion.
ODE TO THE ONION
by Pablo Neruda
Onion,
luminous flask,
your beauty formed
petal by petal,
crystal scales expanded you
and in the secrecy of the dark earth
your belly grew round with dew.
Under the earth
the miracle
happened
and when your clumsy
green stem appeared,
and your leaves were born
like swords
in the garden,
the earth heaped up her power
showing your naked transparency,
and as the remote sea
in lifting the breasts of Aphrodite
duplicating the magnolia,
so did the earth
make you,
onion
clear as a planet
and destined
to shine,
constant constellation,
round rose of water,
upon
the table
of the poor.
You make us cry without hurting us.
I have praised everything that exists,
but to me, onion, you are
more beautiful than a bird
of dazzling feathers,
heavenly globe, platinum goblet,
unmoving dance
of the snowy anemone
and the fragrance of the earth lives
in your crystalline nature.
It's lovely, isn't it? I could speak at length about the lyrical language, the way the onion is described as clear as a planet, how Neruda dances around its layers and peels them away, describing every piece of the onion's humble existence. (I will say, however, that my gut would rather the poem stop after the first stanza, ending with "upon the table of the poor.") But when I re-read the poem, I just stopped at the end, sighed, and didn't want to say any of that, really. I just want the poem to be here, with a slice of this tart nearby.
ONION GALETTE WITH BLUE CHEESE & HONEY
Not many ingredients, here, just a lot of onions and a little crumble of cheese. I've used Ina Garten's tart recipe for a while now, and am very happy with it, so the dough is hers.
For the tart
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
Kosher salt
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter
3 to 4 tablespoons ice water
For the filling
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 large onions, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, minced
About 1 teaspoon minced thyme
2 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
Blue cheese, crumbled
Honey, for serving
Make the tart crust. Add the flour and 1/4 teaspoon salt to the bowl of a food processor. Cut the butter into small pieces and add it to the bowl. Pulse until the butter is the size of peas. With the machine running, add the ice water and process until the dough crumbles, but don't overprocess. Dump the dough onto a floured board and gather it into a ball. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.
While the dough rests, heat the oil in a large skillet over low heat. Add the onions, garlic, thyme, balsamic, and season with salt and pepper. Stir to combine and cook for 30-40 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onions are deeply caramelized.
Heat the oven to 350 degrees. After the dough has chilled, roll it out on a well-floured cutting board into a large circle (it doesn't have to be perfect), and place it on a parchment or silpat-lined baking sheet. Spread the onions from the center to the edges. Leave about an inch border and fold the excess dough into the onions. Sprinkle some blue cheese over the top and bake anywhere between 25-35 minutes, until the edges are golden brown and the cheese has melted. Serve with a drizzle of honey.
Reader Comments (7)
I really enjoy poems that elevate the ordinary into something almost unrecognizable in beauty and wonder. This one does that. Ted Kooser was one who also observed the extraordinary in the ordinary -- and it wasn't until I studied with him and read a lot of his work that I began to appreciate this way of looking at the world. This tart looks to do the same thing -- elevate the ordinary into something else -- deliciously! Very well done!
First para of the description of making dough, typo. "...don't over process" rather than "...don't overprices..." I rarely have luck camelizing onions. They seem to either burn or remain uncarmelized. Secret, really slow cooking?
Naruda's engagement with fruits and vegetables is a delight. I recall being on a silent meditation retreat, in this case, uniquely, for several weeks. The teacher read one of Naruda's poems about plums at an evening dharma talk . I remember many of us quietly weeping at the poem's beauty. It's like that when you are really open. Naruda gives the ordinary such nobility and ordinary moments such clarity.
@Amanda at the red table: I once attended a poetry conference where Ted Kooser was the keynote. I think I have a poem of his waiting in the wings. Stay tuned!
@janjamm: Great catch - thank you! Yes, slow cooking is the way to go. If they happen to start sticking a bit, add more balsamic vinegar to scrape up the crud from the bottom of the pan.
This is a great idea, the collaboration of poetry and recipes. As a huge fan of Neruda, I love this idea, poem and recipe are excellent.
This bring to mind Carol Ann Duffy's poem, Valentine.
Not a red rose or a satin heart
I give you an onion...
http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/carol_ann_duffy/poems/8116
In Ireland we have wine and poetry evenings with poems commissioned about specific wines. I have one in my dinky poetry book called Drinking Now
This wine wants to have its way with you
It wants to seduce you with spicy notes
dreams of long lazy dinners and long lost loves....
http://www.themothmagazine.com/a1-gallery3.asp?roomID=2424&pictureID=30541 4 Euro inc P&P
An unusual combination of poetry and food makes for a perfect pairing. I came here from Mary's post on Vision and Verb and I am so glad I did :-)
I swear, your blog is just hitting all the right chords of my heart. I studied Neruda's poetry in a spanish lit class in high school. I carried around a pocket-sized version of Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada (20 poems of love and a song of despair), convinced that no one could write about love more profoundly and fluidly than Neruda... if you have a chance, you should watch the movie Il Postino, especially if you are a fan of Neruda.