French Onion Soup, straight from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, vol 1. That's what 22 cups of sliced onions looks like in a great big bread bowl. If we had smellovision, I could also share what the house smelled like after caramelizing them in two big pans for about 45 minutes and simmering another hour. No one complained though, and a good time seemed to be had by all.
It was an economical way to feed 22 people. The onions, grown a block away, were a trade for a mattress we no longer use. The (cheap) soup bones for the stock came from the Mexican butcher down the road, and were so meaty that I made carne asada for tonight's dinner out of them too. The rest of the stock ingredients were lurking in back corners of the vegetable drawer. I bought a little gruyere to jazz up the cheap Swiss and Romano that comprised the bulk of the cheese. Some butter, some olive oil, a couple baguettes, a bit of wine, et voila. Life is good. Gathering with friends on a dreary rainy night is excellent. Sampling Deb's brownies, Rena's chocolate coconut torte, Mary Jane's soda bread and other treats is yet another bonus.