Secret Onion Relish: guest post by Hedgehog

 

I'm cooking a batch of Secret Onion Relish.  It's quite a time-consuming process, and I seem to get around to it only once or twice a year, usually when some friend who had a jar of the last batch tells me it was delicious and … hint, hint.  So here I am, with ten pounds of white onions in their third hour of simmering, nothing much left to do but to stir occasionally, await the Right Consistency, and write a word or two to an old friend.  

Since this Relish is a secret recipe, I am sure I will burn eternally for writing about it at all, let alone in a Blog.  I had it from a little old lady who had it from the even older and smaller lady who established the restaurant that made it a local legend.  She has long since gone to a better place, and would anyway be disinclined to sue someone who is old and destitute and far past his mental prime, for what would be the advantage? — at least, I hope so, for that's my sole defense.  Anonymity would not avail me, because the little old lady I got it from would give me up in half a heartbeat.  There is scant honor among cooks here on the mountain. 

It's Saturday night.  I couldn't undertake this relish on a week night, because it simply takes too long.   As it is, if I run out of time tonight, I can cook it some more tomorrow morning. 

There's a lot of molasses involved.  Five cups of it, to my ten pounds of onions.  Also two-thirds of a cup of cider vinegar, among other things. 

Last night a friend from work came to dine with me.  I had no Secret Onion Relish to share, hence my cooking binge today.  He told me a story.  A young warden accompanies an older and very experienced warden on a fishing trip.  They catch nothing for hours.  Eventually the old warden extracts a quarter-stick of dynamite from his vest, lights the fuse and tosses it in the stream.  The young warden is appalled:  "How can you do such a thing, having sworn an oath to uphold the law?"  The older warden produces another quarter-stick with an even shorter fuse, lights it, tosses it into the youngster's lap, and says:  "Now, are you going to keep runnin' your mouth, or are you going to fish?"  — So I'll just keep running my mouth for a while, so to speak, and let the relish simmer down.  It's important to be patient when you're cooking Secret Onion Relish. 

I have not yet mentioned the brown sugar.  There are two pounds of it in the original recipe, but I often use somewhat less, because I prefer the relish not-so-sweet;  and I also furtively increase the cider vinegar to a whole cup, if no one's watching.  But it's all personal taste. 

 … And now it's Sunday morning and the batch is once again on the burner after a few hours of rest.  It's still possible to stir it fairly easily and plenty of liquid still to be simmered away, but the culinary outline is plain.  I have just sampled it (by the way, hot onion relish is absolutely delicious on cottage cheese) and I was wrong about the cayenne pepper.  I am going to add another half ounce, stir well, allow a few minutes, and re-sample. 

Um … the trick with this extra half ounce of cayenne is to make very sure that it is evenly distributed throughout the relish, by stirring even more than you think is enough.    

I'm just saying. 

That distillate, like life itself, has quite a bite to it if you let it sit on your tongue a while. 

So here is the secret of Secret Onion Relish, spelled out: 

            10 lbs white onions

             5 C molasses

             2/3 C cider vinegar

             2 lbs dark brown sugar

            1 to 2 oz cayenne pepper, to taste

            4 or 5 apples, chopped fine

            …and perhaps 1/2 cup of tequila, if you like tequila!

Combine all ingredients except the onion.  Heat slowly in an 8-qt or larger pot while you skin and chop the onions, gradually adding them to the liquid mixture.  (If you do it this way, the early onions will cook down a bit and you'll have room for the rest of them in the 8-qt pot;  if you start with the onions, the pot will likely overflow.)  Simmer the mixture for 3 to 6 hours until the liquid is reduced and the relish reaches an almost-jelly consistency.  Serve with meat dishes, or with cottage cheese, or anything else that appeals to you.  It's nothing if not versatile.  

When I simmer this mix, I tip the pot lid a bit to let the steam out, and the pot invariably spits little bits of sugar all over my stove and my kitchen floor.  I learned, after my first few batches of relish, to put newspapers down on the floor in front of the stove before I start.  

In my experience the typical yield is about 4 qt of relish, which I divide among  several large and small canning jars while it is still boiling hot;  cover, cool, and store.  

Make sure to contribute some to any friends whose lives could use a bit of extra kick, because I can assure you that this relish will succeed where less stubborn relishes would fail.  If you enjoy it, remember me kindly. 

Love to all,

Hedgehog