Waffled French Onion Soup

The anatomy scan was Monday at MGH and I didn't sleep Sunday night. Not fear exactly—I'm a nurse, I know what they're checking for—just the weight of being about to know something permanent about a person who doesn't exist yet outside my body. Sean squeezed my hand so hard in the waiting room I had to shake him loose twice for circulation. The technician was quiet and methodical. Ten fingers, ten toes, heart chambers, brain. I ran the inventory in my head the way I do whenever I'm standing near a scan, cataloguing what's present, what's accounted for.

Then she asked if we wanted to know the sex. Sean made a sound like he'd been holding his breath since July.

A boy. It's a boy.

Sean cried. Not a little—he turned his face into my shoulder right there in the dark room with the gel still cold on my stomach and shook. I've known him twelve years and I've seen him cry twice: his grandmother's funeral and our wedding. This was the third time. I held the back of his head and looked at the ceiling and felt something rearrange inside me that doesn't have a clinical name.

We walked out into Columbus Avenue with October light slanting sideways and Sean said "a boy" like he was tasting the words. We went to Saus on Union Street because I wanted fries and I was in my second trimester and fries require no justification. We sat in the window with the ultrasound printout propped against the salt shaker—a blurry gray image that is apparently our son—and at one point Sean said he'd teach him to throw a curveball. I said we should wait until he had bones. Sean laughed and that was the whole afternoon.

I made butternut squash soup for dinner because it was in the fridge. Sean ate two bowls and kept reaching over to put his hand on my stomach. We don't have a name yet. We have October and all the time we need.

The butternut squash soup I made that night was just what was in the fridge — nothing planned, nothing special. But ever since, I’ve been craving soups that ask you to slow down, the kind where you stand at the stove stirring onions until they go gold and the whole apartment smells like October. This waffled French onion soup has become my version of that — warm, unhurried, and exactly right for evenings when Sean and I sit across from each other with no agenda except being together before everything changes.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 large yellow onions, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 cup dry white wine or dry sherry
6 cups beef broth
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
4 slices thick-cut sourdough or French bread
1 tablespoon melted butter (for waffling)
1 1/2 cups shredded Gruyère cheese
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Instructions

Caramelize the onions. In a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot, melt butter with olive oil over medium heat. Add sliced onions, sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 30 to 35 minutes until onions are deep golden brown and jammy. Reduce heat if they begin to stick.
Deglaze and build the broth. Pour in the wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Cook for 1 to 2 minutes until the wine has mostly evaporated. Add beef broth, thyme, and bay leaf. Bring to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes. Season with pepper and additional salt to taste. Discard the bay leaf.
Waffle the bread. While the soup simmers, preheat a waffle iron to medium-high. Brush both sides of each bread slice with melted butter. Top each slice generously with Gruyère cheese, pressing it into the surface. Place one slice at a time into the waffle iron, cheese side up, and cook for 2 to 3 minutes until the bread is crispy and the cheese is melted and golden with waffle-grid marks.
Serve. Ladle soup into oven-safe bowls. Place a waffled bread slice on top of each bowl, sprinkle with Parmesan, and broil for 1 to 2 minutes until bubbly if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Waffled French Onion Soup — For the October We’ll Never Forget