how was your thanksgiving? i baked everyday, didn’t work at all, and slept a lot. and now i’ve got an 11-day sprint. wish me luck. before i go back to studying (or more realistically, food blogs and youtube and maybe some cardio if there’s a good ree or ina episode on food network), here’s a great whenever recipe. might not be the most friendly post-thanksgiving thing to make (hello creamy brie and buttery puff pastry), but i fully support anything that makes getting back to work a teensy bit easier.
a friend and i first got introduced to the caramelized onion and brie tart after a going to a summer cooking camp. we were mind-blown, and it became one of the first things we cooked together. and if you’re thinking wow what pretentious 13 year olds i didn’t try brie until post-grad, don’t worry. there was orello, orange jello in a hollowed out orange shell that you cut and eat like an orange, too. i remember making the latter in her old house, back when we used her electric stove to caramelize the onions and forgot to mix the jello well enough so that our orello came out watery and only partially set. this past summer when we got together to bake, two others joined us; a mutual middle school friend, and my high school/her college friend. she insisted we make this for old time’s sake, and also to introduce them to it.
this caramelized onion and brie tart is super simple: layer as many sheets of phyllo as you want with slicks of melted butter in between. leaving a border, spread thinly sliced onions caramelized with thyme (deglaze the pan with some wine or water, please, and incorporate all that amazing fond) and diced brie (keep the rind on!!) on top of the phyllo. fold the edges over the filling slightly so that the yummies get trapped in the middle. the phyllo is crispy and flaky, the onions sweet and soft, the brie pungent and gooey.
we always have leftover stuff, so we make mini ones, too; i personally like the big size better, because it has more filling. and the mini ones are dangerous: before you know it, you’ve popped too many to count in your mouth and start to feel concerned that butter runs in your veins.