Publisher's Weekly Review
Journalist Kurlansky (Big Lies) follows up his deep dives into salt, cod, and oysters with a charmingly eclectic look at the onion's uses across history and culture. Among other topics, he investigates why the vegetable elicits tears (when cut, they release "highly reactive" sulfur compounds, some of which "dissolve into the water of the eyes"); outlines its non-culinary uses (an Olympic athlete in ancient Greece might "eat a pound of onions and also drink onion juice, and rub onion on his body" for good fortune, while Pliny the Elder credited the vegetable with treating everything from bad vision to dysentery); and captures its place in art and literature ("There is probably no other vegetable that is the subject of as many poems"). Kurlansky has a tendency to cycle rapidly through a wealth of fascinating trivia, which can make for a jarring reading experience, and he sometimes skimps on proof, as when he doesn't cite a source for his claim that the Baniya people of India don't eat red onions because of their resemblance to meat. Still, Kurlansky's gentle humor and seamless transitions from history to science to culinary appreciation are a delight, as are the charming recipes interspersed throughout. When he asserts in the final chapters that "there is no better vegetable," many readers will be convinced. It's a delicious celebration of an underappreciated food. (Nov.)
Kirkus Review
A sweet, earthy aroma permeates this book, as Kurlansky delves into our enduring love affair with onions. Julia Child once said that it was difficult to imagine a civilization without onions. This is borne out by the historical record, compiled in this engaging, colorful book. Kurlansky, acclaimed author of Cod, Salt, Salmon, Milk!, and other food-related books, has a wonderful time with his subject, noting that onions have long been eaten in nearly every corner of the globe. They were even mentioned in the Code of Hammurabi. Onions have been sought for their combination of sweetness (from dextrose) and pungency (from sulfur, which is also the cause of the teary experience when peeling), and can provide a depth of taste when added to nearly any dish. Kurlansky even coins the word cepaphile, meaning a person who loves onions. They are easy to grow and travel well. This means that varieties have spread and intermixed across the world with waves of immigrants. The Pilgrim Fathers brought onions to the Americas with them on the Mayflower, although they found that several types grew wild. George Washington had a passion for onions, and Thomas Jefferson cultivated them. Kurlansky examines the myriad ways in which they have been used in cooking, offering 100 recipes drawn from a library of cookbooks and including soup, sauces, omelettes, bread, and puddings. He does not, however, recommend the onion-and-peanut-butter sandwich favored by Ernest Hemingway. Americans have always loved onions, consuming more per capita--more than 20 pounds annually--than any other country in the world. In total, the world grows 93.17 metric tons of onions per year, and China and India are the leading producers. The onion might be humble, but it is ubiquitous--and will surely remain so. A delightful journey that unravels the story of a key piece of nearly every national cuisine. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Booklist Review
Playing both starring and supporting roles in virtually every culture's cuisine, onions are indispensable for most cooks. Kurlansky (Salt, 2002), a prodigious cataloger of comestibles, peels away the agricultural, culinary, and cultural history of onions layer by layer. He explains, for instance, how these humble vegetables have been subjected to much hybridization over the centuries, and explores the differences between strong and sweet onion varieties, whose smell and taste may depend on the amount of sulfur in the soil. Kurlansky gives a nod to onion cousins (including leeks, scallions, and ramps) but focuses on the common bulb onion, noting that differences among onions make reproducing results in the kitchen more difficult than it might appear. He surveys centuries of recipes for onions, whether in soups, stews, or braises; raw, cooked, or pickled; chopped, whole, or stuffed; creamed, fried, or baked. He even digs up a recipe for sweet Vidalia onion pie topped with Cool Whip, although he withholds his full approval. Many photographs amplify the fun and a sizable bibliography enhances the usefulness.
Library Journal Review
Known for his culinary deep dives in Cod and Salt, Kurlansky, in this book, traces the extensive history of onions from cuneiform tablets to the modern table, exploring various onion varieties and growing locations across the globe. At first glance, readers might assume this work will be esoteric or dry. On the contrary, it is a fascinating and educational read, full of interesting facts, such as that Meriwether Lewis preferred lily and hyacinth bulbs to onions, and that onion prices are believed to have brought down the national government in India in 1980. Kurlansky's book also has recipes interspersed throughout the info. Some are expected (onion soup, onion pickles, onion bread), while other recipes may catch one off guard, such as the onion-lemon pie (there's also an onion-coconut variation). Recipes are measured in weights but include conversions to cup measurements. Readers are sure to emerge amazed by this narrative of the humble onion, and Kurlansky's tongue-in-cheek humor is a delight. VERDICT A must purchase for both foodie patrons and fans of in-depth and compelling history.--Sarah Sieg
