When I began researching Provence, I was excited by all the interesting techniques, ingredients, and flavors I found to be hallmarks of the region’s cuisine. I was also excited by the prospect of being able to prepare a dish that incorporated all those intriguing ingredients, techniques, and flavors I’d read about. My research drew me to two dishes, bouillabaisse, a rich fish stew, and ratatouille (Provence had it long before Disney did), a dish of roasted or stewed summer vegetables.

The more I read about bouillabaisse,  the more I (rather pessimistically) realized that there was no point in preparing a dish that was A, expensive, B, time consuming, C, made primarily with fish, which I detest, and D, would mostly go to waste, as every recipe I found served at least eight people. I don’t think I even have eight friends who’d be willing to eat French fish stew. So, I went back to the drawing board.

Unfortunately, as I read up on ratatouille, I realized that the pseudo-spring/winter season that defines the early months of the year in Alabama would make it difficult to obtain quality summer vegetables. Back to the drawing board. Again.

While I pondered my options, I remembered reading about an onion tart that I had initially dismissed because it featured anchovies. It seems as though the word “anchovies” strikes fear in the hearts of men all over the world, myself included, but as I read more about this tart, called pissaladière, which is covered with sweet, golden caramelized onions perfumed with garlic and thyme, I decided to make the leap.

The dish is an easy one to prepare, and the ingredients are easy to find—most can be found in supermarkets like Publix and Winn Dixie. You might have a little difficulty finding quality anchovies and Niçoise olives, though. I found both at my local Fresh Market, but if you don’t have access to a specialty grocery store, you can order anchovies here and Niçoise olives here.

The recipe I’m following is Melissa Clark’s for New York Times (although I make a few tweaks of my own). You can find it here or below.

Prepare it as an hors d’oeuvre to pass around with drinks and you’re sure to impress all your friends at your next cocktail party or get-together.

 

For me, the most important step of any recipe is making yourself comfortable. I do this by opening my kitchen window, slipping on a pair of comfy shoes (today, it’s my Birkenstocks), and listening to some music or a podcast. While I’m sure Edith Piaf crooning “Non, je ne regrette rien” or Eponine lamenting her love for Marius as she walks the streets of Paris is more apt for my preparation of pissaladière, today I choose an eclectic playlist: there’s Glass Animals, then Diana Ross, Sufjan Stevens, St. Vincent, and some Sondheim for good measure.

I began with the dough. It was a simple one, very similar to a traditional pizza dough. I combined yeast with warm water, waited a few minutes for the yeast to bloom, and quickly mixed the dough with a wooden spoon. When the dough pulled away from the sides of the bowl, I turned it out onto the floured counter top and kneaded it for about four minutes, adding flour as necessary, until it was smooth. Then, I placed the dough into an oiled bowl and let it rise, covered with paper towels, in my microwave for an hour.

As the dough rose, I began my work on the onions. The recipe I followed called for three pounds of yellow onions, although I’m sure you could use any variety (I’m partial to Spanish onions if I can get my hands on them). Admittedly, this is a lot of onions, but the process of caramelization condenses three pounds of onions into maybe two cups’ worth of sweet, golden goodness. When preparing this many onions, you can spare your tears by using an incredibly sharp knife or a wearing pair of safety goggles (I have both).

Before cooking the onions, I heated 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large, high-sided skillet. For nearly every savory dish I prepare, I use California Olive Ranch’s Roasted Garlic Oil, a blissful extra-virgin olive oil flavored with sweet roasted garlic that I find delivers a lovely warmth and pungency to any dish.

Before turning on the burner, I added three anchovy fillets to the oil. I find that allowing the anchovies and oil to come to temperature together allows the anchovies to melt into the oil more uniformly. Don’t be afraid of anchovies! As I said before, I know that they’re intimidating, but they impart an unmatched meaty depth (umami) to the dish.

As the anchovies dissolved in the oil, I minced one clove of garlic and chopped one teaspoon of fresh thyme. Once the anchovies had melted, I added the onions, garlic, and thyme. Do not add salt at this step! It draws moisture from the onions and will throw off the process of caramelization if you add it at this point. After tossing the onions, garlic, and thyme in the oil, I covered the skillet and cooked the onions on medium heat for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. The smell was heavenly, like butter and onions and garlic and every other good thing French cuisine can offer.

While the onions cooked, I pitted the olives. You can use a cherry pitter, but if you don’t have one of those, you can use a paring knife to pit the olives. This is a tedious process; I used 20 or 30 olives for this recipe, and pitting them took me nearly fifteen minutes. Before pitting the olives, I tasted one. Not realizing the olives hadn’t been pitted already, I very nearly chipped a tooth. I found that the Niçoise olives, imported from France, were peculiarly bitter, and (obviously) briny and salty.

After 20 minutes had passed, I uncovered the onions and added ½ teaspoon of salt. The recipe I followed called for fine salt, but I used kosher salt, as it was what I had on hand. This did not significantly affect the flavor of the dish. In fact, I think that if I had used fine salt, the combination of the onions, olives, and anchovies might have been overwhelmingly salty. At this stage, the onions were soft, translucent, and faintly golden. Many people are tempted to encourage caramelization by adding sugar to the onions, but it’s best accomplished with patience and time. I covered and cooked the onions for 20-25 more minutes, using my eyes and nose to determine when they were ready to be removed from the skillet. Once the onions were a deep golden color, I transferred them to a plate to cool completely.

By the time the onions were ready to cool, the dough was ready to roll out. I removed the dough to a floured surface and rolled it out to approximately 11 inches by 16 inches, relishing its resilience and ease. I transferred the dough to an oiled 12×16 pan, pressing it into the pan’s sides. Then, I allowed the dough to rest for 30 minutes, covered with a damp paper towel. While the dough rested, I preheated my oven to 400 degrees.

Once 30 minutes had elapsed and the onions were completely cool, I took an offset spatula and carefully spread the onions over the dough, leaving a one-inch border; they were so soft that they spread like butter. Once the onions had been spread, I took eight anchovy fillets and the olives and made a simple pattern, two X’s on a golden field, spangled with shiny black olives. Before cooking the pissaladière, I brushed the borders with olive oil and sprinkled the tart with fresh leaves of thyme and dried parsley.

I cooked the tart for 22 minutes, and when it was done, I was overwhelmed with excitement. My kitchen smelled like sweet onions and yeasty dough, and the tart was so beautiful that I almost didn’t want to eat it. The dough had become a golden-brown crust, the olives had blistered, and the anchovies had melted into the onions. I let the tart rest for 10 minutes before cutting it. When I did cut it, it yielded between 16 and 20 pieces, and I made sure that each cut bore onions, anchovies, and olives.

The pissaladière was delicious, a sublime symphony of sweetness and saltiness. The anchovies, even when eaten whole, weren’t fishy or pungent, but were like little salt bombs that balanced out the sweetness of the caramelized onions.

I really can’t recommend this recipe enough. Even though I’m still a bit afraid of anchovies, I think that this dish that showcases the wonderful alchemy of caramelization is a delectable option for novices and mavens and a perfect introduction to the techniques, ingredients, and flavors that define Provencal cuisine.

 

PISSALADIÈRE

by Melissa Clark for the New York Times

2-2 ½ hours ~ serves 6-15, depending on serving size

INGREDIENTS 

For the filling:

8-20 anchovy fillets, or to taste

¼ cup olive oil

3 pounds yellow or sweet onions, thinly sliced

1 clove garlic, minced

1 tsp. thyme leaves, chopped

½ teaspoon salt

¼ cup Niçoise olives, pitted

For the dough:

1 ½ tsps. active dry yeast

2/3 cup warm water

3 tbs. olive oil

2 cups all purpose flour

1 ½ tsp. salt

PROCESS

Make the filling: Finely chop 2 of the anchovy fillets. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onions, garlic, thyme and chopped anchovy, then cover pan and cook, stirring occasionally, for 20 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low, stir in salt, and continue cooking for 25 minutes, stirring occasionally. The onions should be pale golden and very soft; lower the heat if they start to turn dark brown at the edges or stick to the skillet. Use your judgment on timing: Look to the color of the onions to tell you when they’re done. Remove from heat and cool completely before using.

Meanwhile, make the dough: In a medium bowl, sprinkle dry yeast over warm water. Let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes, then add oil. In a large bowl, whisk together flour and salt, then stir in yeast mixture with a wooden spoon until combined. Turn bowl’s contents out onto a floured surface and knead until uniform and elastic, 3 to 5 minutes. (Flour your hands if necessary to keep dough from sticking.) Transfer dough to an oiled bowl, flip the dough over, cover bowl with a damp cloth and let rest in a draft-free place for 1 hour.

Lightly oil an 11×17-inch rimmed baking sheet. Working on a floured surface, roll dough into an 11×16-inch rectangle, then transfer it to the oiled baking sheet and press the dough to the sides. Cover with a damp cloth and let rest for 30 minutes.

Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Spread cooked onions evenly over dough, and top with remaining anchovies and olives. Bake until edges and underside are golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.