On Dad and onions: A love story

Graham smooches Dad, who hds been entrusted with his Elmos. That's
 Tim and me before the Wall 'O Fame (Parsippany, NJ, February 1993).

My dad has been gone a long time, but it still makes me sad to count the years. It's easy math, really, because Graham was not even three when he died 18 years ago, just a few weeks before Father's Day.

When I think of him, as I often do, the thing I remember most was his wide grin and big laugh, a great belly jiggler often punctuated by a toss of the head and tears of joy. He was easily amused, my dad, and he did so many things that still strike me as incredibly funny.

The Big Kid, after building the Little Tykes play
gym in the cold while his grandson napped
(Sanford, NC, December 1993)

A thing you should know about Irving Warren was that, while he often splurged on us, his personal style favored frugality. He was a child of the Depression who did not like things to go to waste. He recycled office paper long before it was fashionable, painting glue on one side to make his own note pads. In addition to birthday gifts "too nice" to use and saved for special occasions that never came, we found dozens of glass jars in the garage after he died. Like the ledgers he filled with an accountant's precision, they were neatly arranged in a cabinet, each one containing different sorts of nuts, bolts, screws and nails, not to mention bits and pieces of carefully catalogued miscellany. Waste not, want not.

One night at dinner, which probably consisted of grilled steak and frozen vegetables, he inadvertently combined two of his favorite things. While intending to pour root beer into his drinking glass, he misjudged and tipped it instead into a take-out deli container full of sliced raw onions.

"Irving!" shouted my mother. "What are you doing? Irving!" My brothers and I quickly advanced from nervous silence to howling laughter. Dad just folded his hands and leaned in to peer at the foaming mess with calm acceptance. Slices of sharp, eye-watering onion were taken out a few at a time, gently tapped on the rim to let excess soda dripped off, then arranged on his plate, where he dutifully ate every bite.

I still marvel to think that this unplanned side dish did not choke him with heartburn, but the simple fact is my dad loved onion with just about everything, and this was long before the advent of Vidalias or other sweets he would have contentedly munched like apples.

I don't often need an excuse to tell this story, but I share it today as part of the international #LetsLunch food blog posting which celebrates dads. With this recollection and the ever-popular Lipton Onion Soup Mix dip in mind - it was my mother's go-to for virtually any gathering - I decided to make a dip for dad incorporating these two memorable ingredients: onions and root beer.

The splash of root beer that deglazes a skilletful of caramelized onions - I used one of my mother's favorite pans for good measure - makes this a somewhat sweet dip that stands up well to dark pretzel sticks and salty potato chips. If you'd like to make it more savory, opt for a rich stout or splash of full bodied red wine vinegar.

Root Beer Glazed Onion Dip
2 tbsp. unsalted butter
2 tbsp. olive oil
3 large garlic cloves
2 large purple onions
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
2 4-inch sprigs rosemary
Cheesecloth and butcher's twine
1/2 cup root beer soda (I used Dad's, a vintage brand he enjoyed)
1/2 cup pecorino romano, freshly grated
8 oz. container of sour cream
Pretzel sticks, ruffled chips

Sautee onions slowly to caramelize. Stop when you get
a nice layer on brown on the pan (above) - but before
the onions burn. Deglazing with root beer (below)
incorporates tasty bits into the mix and cleans pan.

Cut onions into large chunks and place in work bowl of food processor with garlic. Pulse until it is chopped to a fairly uniform coarse texture. Be careful to stop before it becomes a watery puree.

Melt butter with olive oil in skillet over medium-low heat. Add onion-garlic mix and sautee slowly. Wrap sprigs of rosemary in a small piece of cheesecloth; knot with twine then tuck into pan.

Check on mix and stir every 10 minutes or so; remove the rosemary after about 30 minutes (don't worry if a few sprigs escape). It should take about 40 minutes or more to fully caramelize, or even up to an hour if you work with a low flame and a lot of patience. Aim for the point where the onions just start to stick to the pan (above right), but be careful to not let them burn.

Pour in the root beer and, with a wooden spatula, scrape up all the lovely browned bits. Keep stirring until liquid evaporates and mixture thickens.

Remove pan from heat and allow to cool completely. Stir in sour cream, blending well, then add grated cheese and mix again. Transfer to container and refrigerate at least 2 hours to let flavors meld.

Transfer dip to serving dish with chips and pretzels - or whatever you dad would like.

Canning for 'Farm to Fork' – and from his table to yours

Paperless tickets for Sunday's Farm to Form 2012 Picnic are available online and must be purchased in advance.

Chad McIntyre is a little like the guy who needs to make to doughnuts. Except he needs to make summer squash pickles. And he loves doing it.

Chad McIntyre leads a recent canning class
at The Market Restaurant

“I’ve got to pickle four cases for the weekend,” said McIntrye, chef at The Market Restaurant of Raleigh, which will be represented at Sunday's Farm to Fork 2012 Picnic in Hillsborough. “I want to be sure we have enough.”

The annual event, which celebrates the connection between local farmers and chefs, is a perfect fit for McIntyre. In collaboration with Walters Unlimited farm of Efland, he'll cook hickory-smoked brisket on carrot-turnip bread with pickled summer squash and a cilantro cream. He'll also make a version with vegan sausage in place of the brisket. 

McIntrye's creative use of seasonal fare has built a loyal following at The Market, where diners count on meals crafted from whole, all-natural, unprocessed foods gathered from local sources.

The Market has proved so successful, in fact, that McIntyre will temporarily shut down the cozy eaterie in the Mordecai neighborhood in September to relocate just a few blocks south to a larger space at the long-abandoned Person Street Plaza. In addition to more seating, the new spot also will feature a market in which McIntyre will sell both canned goods and canning supplies.

“Canning has become a signature of what we do here at The Market,” said McIntrye, who recently started selling hip T-shirts with the motto I Eat Local … Because I Can. “People expect it, and we like that they do.”

While he’ll eventually offer jams and jellies, sauces and pickles in the shop, McIntyre is not waiting until fall to get started. He's warming up now by leading workshops on how to can at home.

In recent weeks, McIntrye has taught a series of beginner, intermediate and advanced canning classes at The Market on Monday nights, when it's usually closed. The entry level classes have been most popular.

“I think that will continue to be our focus,” he said, noting that more classes will be scheduled in the fall. “People feel better about canning if they have a guide. Anyone who cans knows how easy and rewarding it can be. But sometimes new canners are afraid they’re going to kill someone if they do something wrong.”

In addition to practical, food safety-based instruction and a smattering of preservation history, McIntyre sends every participant home with a copy of the Ball Blue Book, long recognized as a preserver's bible.

To help build canning confidence, McIntrye focuses on high-acid products that yield reliable results, like the squash pickles. Students leave enthused and with a new respect for old traditions, he said. Some have even followed up to report success with making jam or jelly.

“I know how they feel,” he said. “It’s great to capture the freshness of what’s in season so you can enjoy it any time.”

One of the recipes McIntrye shares is the popular picked onions served at The Market. It’s perfect for beginners but yields a sophisticated taste that anyone would enjoy. McIntyre used them in sandwiches and to garnish salads. One batch will fill about six 8-ounce jars, sometimes with enough for an additional 4-ounce jar.

The Market Restaurant's Pickled Onions

½ tsp. pickling spice

½ tsp. turmeric

1½ cups sugar

1 cup water

1 cup apple cider vinegar

1 pinch salt

½ tsp. whole brown mustard seed

½ tsp. celery seed

6-7 cups onions, sliced about 1/4-inch thick (approximately 3 large onions)

• Prepare jars, lids and rings according to USDA guidelines. Fill jars with raw sliced onion and set aside. 
• Combine remaining ingredients in a pot and bring to a boil, stirring well to incorporate. Pour hot vinegar mix over onions in jars, leaving a half-inch of head space. 
• Run a knife through jars to break up any air bubbles. Top with lids and adjust bands until snug but not tight.
• Place jars in water bath with water at least an inch above jars. Process for 10 minutes then remove to a heatproof surface to cool. Allow to mature at least a week before enjoying.