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Fried Onions
Peel and slice the onions in cold water, drain and then fry in boiling fat or butter. Stir constantly to prevent burning and do not allow them to get too brown. Season to taste and serve hot.
A three-line recipe that assumes a great deal of experience. The whole result depends on heat control and on how much moisture you leave clinging to the onions.
- "Boiling fat"The phrase in older books signals fat that is properly hot and sizzling rather than warm; how hot is left to the cook. For a skillet of sliced onions, medium heat and enough fat to coat the pan generously is right; butter alone will brown before the onions soften, so a mix of butter and a neutral oil holds up better.
- Drain properlySlicing in cold water was usually explained as taking the edge off the sulphur bite and keeping the rings separate, though that is the traditional rationale rather than a documented one. Either way, wet onions steam rather than fry: drain in a colander and pat dry, or the pan temperature will crash the moment they go in.
- "Do not allow them to get too brown"This is the hinge. The recipe wants soft, pale gold onions, not the deep-mahogany caramelised onions of modern usage. Once the edges start to blacken the sugars turn bitter and there is no recovering them.
- TimingNo time is given because it depends on the pan. Sliced thin, expect 10 to 15 minutes of steady stirring over medium heat to reach soft and golden; rushing it over high heat scorches the edges while the centres stay raw.
- Season at the endThe instruction to "season to taste" comes last for a reason. Salt early and the onions release water and stew; salt once they have taken colour and they stay in distinct slices.
- QuantityOnions collapse to roughly a third of their raw volume. Reckon one large onion per person as a side dish, two if they are going onto steak or liver.
Fried onions occupy a modest place in older cookery: not a dish so much as an accompaniment, expected alongside beefsteak, calf's liver and chops, and cheap enough to appear on any table. That the book gives it three sentences and no quantities says something about how a household manual worked — it was a reminder for a cook who already knew the method, not a teaching text. Slicing the onions in cold water is a common instruction of the period and is generally explained as drawing off some of the harshness of a strong storage onion. The insistence on not browning them too far distinguishes this from the long, slow caramelisation now associated with French onion soup.