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Copycat Sonic Onion Rings — The Side That Belongs at Every Backyard Cookout

Fourth of July week. Hartford had its parade. The grandchildren came over Saturday with sparklers and small American flags Jenny had bought from a store. Lucas and Isabella ran around the yard with sparklers. Camila was scared of them. Mateo did not understand why we were waving at fire. Andrés was asleep in the carrier. The neighbors had a barbecue. We had a barbecue. The whole block smelled like grill smoke from 2 PM to 9 PM.

I made hot dogs and burgers — American food for the American holiday — but I also made arroz con gandules and tostones because I am Puerto Rican on a holiday or any other day. Eduardo grilled. Sofía came over. Rosa and Carlos came over. Miguel Jr. and Jenny came over. David did not — he stayed in Brooklyn for a Pride event he and James were going to. He sent pictures from a parade. He looked happy. James was in the pictures with him for the first time. The picture in his text message was a small thing. It was a big thing.

The fireworks were at Bushnell Park at 9. We did not go — too tired, too many small kids — but we watched some on television. Lucas asked, "Abuela, why do we have fireworks for the country?" I said, "Mijo, because we are happy to be in the country." He said, "Are we happy?" I said, "Mijo, yes. Sometimes." He said, "What about when we are not happy?" I said, "Mijo, then we are still in the country, but we are not happy with it." He thought about this. He said, "Abuela, that is complicated." I said, "Mijo, yes. It is complicated. You will understand more when you are older." He nodded. He is six and a half. He understands more than he can say.

Tuesday food bank: hamburgers and hot dogs (Brian's idea, for the holiday), and arroz with gandules (my idea, for me). Both went. The line was short because Hartford was at backyard barbecues. Mr. Patterson came. He said, "Mrs. Carmen, this is a holiday week, you should not be cooking." I said, "Mr. Patterson, I have been cooking on holiday weeks since I was nineteen." He said, "Mrs. Carmen, that is the problem." I said, "Mr. Patterson, that is the solution."

Mami this week was tired. I drove sopa to her three times. She ate small portions. The wake sofrito got another taste-test Friday. She approved. She said, "Carmen, you are getting close." I noted it in the notebook. Wepa.

Eduardo was at that grill from two in the afternoon until the sky went dark, and nobody at that cookout was complaining — but I will tell you what would have made those burgers and hot dogs even better. These onion rings. Crispy, golden, the kind that disappear off the plate before you can set it down, the same way sparklers disappear before Camila can decide whether she’s scared of them. I have been making a version of these for years for exactly this kind of day — the loud, smoky, complicated, beautiful kind — because some things just belong next to a plate full of American food on an American holiday, made by someone who is Puerto Rican on a holiday or any other day.

Copycat Sonic Onion Rings

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 large sweet onions, peeled and sliced into 1/2-inch rings
  • 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, divided
  • 1/4 cup cornstarch
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon salt, plus more for finishing
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1 cup cold beer (lager or pale ale) or cold club soda
  • 1 large egg, beaten
  • Vegetable oil, for frying (about 4 cups)

Instructions

  1. Separate the rings. Peel and slice onions into 1/2-inch rounds. Separate into individual rings, discarding the very small center pieces. Pat dry thoroughly with paper towels — moisture is the enemy of a crispy crust.
  2. Set up your dredge. Place 1/2 cup of flour in a shallow bowl or plate. In a separate large bowl, whisk together the remaining 1 cup flour, cornstarch, baking powder, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and smoked paprika.
  3. Make the batter. Add the cold beer (or club soda) and the beaten egg to the flour-spice mixture. Whisk until just combined — a few small lumps are fine. Do not overmix. The batter should be thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. If it seems too thin, add a tablespoon of flour.
  4. Heat the oil. Pour vegetable oil into a heavy-bottomed pot or deep skillet to a depth of about 2 inches. Heat over medium-high heat until it reaches 375°F. Use a thermometer for best results — oil too cool makes greasy rings, oil too hot burns the batter before the onion softens.
  5. Dredge and dip. Working in batches, toss a few onion rings in the dry flour to coat lightly, shaking off any excess. Then dip each ring into the wet batter, letting any excess drip off before lowering it into the oil.
  6. Fry in batches. Fry 4—5 rings at a time (do not crowd the pot) for 2—3 minutes per side, turning once, until deep golden brown. Use tongs or a spider strainer to turn and remove rings.
  7. Drain and season. Transfer fried rings to a wire rack set over a baking sheet, or to a plate lined with paper towels. Season immediately with a pinch of salt while still hot. Keep finished batches warm in a 200°F oven while you fry the rest.
  8. Serve hot. Serve immediately alongside burgers, hot dogs, or any cookout plate. A side of ketchup or spicy dipping sauce is welcome but not required — these hold their own.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 280 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 420mg

Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
About the cook who shared this
Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
Week 479 of Carmen’s 30-year story · Hartford, Connecticut
Carmen is a sixty-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager, a grandmother of eight, and a Puerto Rican woman who survived Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt her life in Hartford, Connecticut, with nothing but her mother's sofrito recipe and the kind of determination that only comes from watching everything you own get washed away. She cooks arroz con pollo, pernil, and pasteles for every holiday, and her kitchen is always open because in Carmen's world, nobody eats alone.

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