I don't pretend to be a culinary expert, but I know a few things about French
onion soup--Soupe à l'Oignon Gratinée.
I've made it for years from Julia Childs's recipe, beginning with a ton of
onions which cook down and caramelize into a little brown blob which produces a
very fine flavored soup. The only place to order onion soup is in a good French
restaurant, where you know it will be served hot from the oven with a large
crouton and bubbling cheese melted on top.
What better way to start lunch on a chilly December day at Angèle? Located in Napa's riverfront
area among the newest shops and some of our most prestigious dining
establishments, Angèle is like a
short visit to France--several brands of pastis
behind the bar, French titles on the
menu, and French music in the background. Despite the chill of the day, it is
warm enough in the sun that some diners are having lunch outside. I sigh to see
another empty counter but pull up a stool. Even at the bar diners get a cloth
placemat and napkin. Memories of previous visits whet my appetite--I had a
great birthday party here a couple of years ago in their private room. The wine
list entices, but today I am saving my alcohol consumption for an evening
party, so choose water for my beverage.
Even the french bread at Angèle
is excellent. It's an Acme bread made to their specifications with lots of
crunchy crust. The soup arrives in an individual tureen hot from the oven, the
rim overflowing with browned cheese. Just delicious. Although the
broth has salt, the combination of onions and cheese lends an earthy sweetness.
A spoon of the broth-soaked crouton dripping with cheese makes my mouth happy.
Onion soup is very filling but the occasion calls for something more,
if not a full entrée. I decide on the
Salade Lyonnaise, which is on the
appetizer menu, but is large enough to be a main course. Frisèe covers a bed of warm De
Puy lentils and carrots in a vinaigrette with lardons, another French staple--Julia recommended them for many of
her dishes. In America we would just use crisped bacon for flavoring, but the
French use salt pork. You buy a slab of what is mostly fat with a thin strip of
meaty rind. You cut it into pieces the size of a short french fry and sauté them to render out some of the
fat. Then they go into your dish to add a chewy bit of flavor. The lardons in my salad are meaty and accent
the dish with their familiar smoky taste.
The intrigue of this salad is the "crispy farm egg." The
bartender explains the eggs are cooked in the shell sous-vide until they have the perfect runny yolk and firm white.
Then they are peeled, coated in panko and deep fried quickly until brown and
crisp. I easily cut the warm egg with my fork and the yolk runs onto the
greens, a perfect complement. I could eat a lot of eggs served this way!
A couple enters and sits at the end of the bar for drinks. I think
about asking if they are visitors or locals, but they're engrossed in their own
conversation. I manage only a smile in their direction. No social encounters
today--it's a good thing the food is so wonderful.
In the past some of my
post-lunch-encounter feelings of bliss could be accounted for by the wine
consumed with those meals, but today I have had no wine and am still feeling
pretty wonderful at the end of my meal. I walk around the area, looking into
the shops I haven't seen before, grateful to live so close to such bounty and
for my mini trip to France thanks to Angèle.
