
Did you know?
The oldest recipes we know of are written in cuneiform on Mesopotamian clay tablets. The 3,700-year-old collection includes a lamb stew calling for onions, garlic and leeks (sounds delicious, until you get to the blood and soured milk). A fowl recipe also demands onions, garlic and leeks. So does one for braised turnips. So, it turns out, do most. The onion family (which includes garlic, leeks, chives, scallions and shallots) was the very foundation for the ancient Mesopotamians' surprisingly sophisticated cuisine.
It makes you want to reach back across the millennia, grasp those Mesopotamians to your breast and, wiping away an onion-induced tear, call them brother. For onions remain, to this day, the indispensable vegetable, the strong (yet sweet) cornerstone of modern cooking, not just in our culture but around the world. Whether it's a soup, stew, stir-fry, pizza, salad or sauce, chances are the recipe includes onions or garlic, (very likely onions and garlic), or one of their close cousins. These members of the genus Allium (part of the lily family) don't just add flavour to a meal, they add richness, complexity, a whole extra dimension. They are sources of an almost narcotic pleasure; the smell of frying onions is an appetizing as that of frying bacon, brewing coffee or baking bread. On top of all that, onions are dirt cheap, they can be stored for months, and they're good for you. What's not to like?
Because the soft tissues of onions leave little or no trace, it is difficult to know when and where humans and onions first crossed paths, but it is safe to assume we began eating wild varieties long before we began cultivating them 5,000 years ago. Four thousand years ago, Hammurabi, the Babylonian king famous for codifying law, was providing for his poorest subjects with a monthly ration of bread and onions which were eaten raw.
To the Ancient Egyptians, the spherical shape and concentric layers of the onion were symbols of eternity. In tomb paintings and inscriptions, priests are depicted holding onions or placing them on the alters of the gods, and onions have frequently been found inside the body cavities of mummies. King Ramses IV was entombed with onions in his eye sockets, King Tutankhamen with garlic bulbs at his side. Onions were carried by officials at their swearing-in ceremonies and replicated in gold as amulets. They were also, along with bread and beer, a staple food of the labouring class. According to the Greek historian Herodotus, the Great Pyramid of Cheops originally bore an inscription stating that the cost of the garlic, radishes and onions that fed workers during its construction was 1,600 talents.
Onions merit only one mention in the Bible. On their exodus from Egypt, the Israelites, lost and starving, were saved by the miraculous appearance of manna from heaven. But were they grateful? No, they were not. They missed (amongst other things) their alliums. "We remember all the fish we used to eat fro free in Egypt. And we had all the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic that we wanted. But now... we have nothing to eat but mann!" they wail to Moses in the Book of Numbers.
As in Egypt, peasants in ancient Greece and Rome began their day with raw onions on bread. It was a practice much detested by the upper classes, although some of the elite were not so dismissive. In an early attempt at performance enhancement, Olympic athletes fortified themselves with onions before competition, eating great quantities of them, drinking their juice and rubbing them over their bodies. Alexander the Great, believing strong food made strong soldiers, fed his troops on onions (as, much later did Napoleon). And Roman gladiators were rubbed down with onions juice before competitions.
In the ancient world onions clearly belonged on a very high pedestal. Great medicinal properties wee ascribed to them - Pliny the Elder listed 23 medical uses for garlic, and wrote that onions were indicated for visions problems, insomnia, toothaches, dysentery, mouth sores and dog bites. Because of the phallic shape of the plants, Romans believed them to be aphrodisiacs and served them at orgies. Emperor Nero thought leeks were good for his voice. He ate so many people began calling him Porrophagus ("Leek-eater"), though never it is safe to guess, to his face.
In Europe during the Middle Ages, the allium family's star continued to rise, both as food and folk medicine. Onions were prescribed for headaches, snakebites and hair loss; garlic for infections and the plague (as recently as 1917 and 1918, some Americans wore garlands of garlic in public during flu epidemics). Garlic was also used against supernatural threats. It was hung in doors and windows to keep vampires out of homes, and was placed in cradles to keep evil spirits away between the time of a child's birth and baptism.
In Wales, the leek became (and remains) the symbol of the nation after the Welsh army, wearing leeks in their helmets to distinguish themselves from their enemy, defeated the invading Saxons in 640 AD. On the continent, onions were given as wedding gifts and were accepted as payment of rent. The emperor Charlemagne grew onions in his royal gardens, making the bulbs fit (for the first time) for consumption by the nobility.
Wild alliums grow in North America and were used by First Nation peoples, though their popularity declined after Columbus brought cultivated varieties from Europe on his second voyage. The native species weren't completely abandoned, however, American cowboys were fond of the prairie onion, a wild plant whose powerful odour gave it the nickname "skunk egg." It was a key ingredient in a legendary cowboy staple, son-of-a-bitch stew. The aromatic wild leek (a.k.a. ramp or Tennessee truffle) has made a comeback, recently becoming a favoured delicacy of top chefs.
Health-wise, the best news abut onions is that they're fat free. They are not a nutritional powerhouse, though they are low in calories (around 60 per onion) and do provide some dietary fibre, vitamins C and B6 and potassium. They also contain the antioxidants quercetin and selenium which may protect against some types of cancer.
Garlic is another story. For millennia it has been reputed to relieve a huge spectrum of ailments. When researchers began to investigate garlic scientifically they naturally targeted allicin, the sulphur-based compound that is responsible for its unique pungency. The chemical, which is not stored in garlic but created when it is cut or crushed, is the bulb's natural insecticide, delivered in response to an attack, and a very effective weapon it is. Allicin kills viruses, inhibits tumour cell formation, and has antibiotic and antifungal properties. The trouble is that allicin is destroyed by heating, and few of us would take the social risk of noshing raw garlic. Furthermore, once in the human body allicin is so rapidly metabolized that it never gets into the bloodstream. Researchers are now looking at other chemicals in garlic, and some of the stinking rose's alleged benefits may eventually be confirmed.
Perhaps you wish our research dollars were spend finding out how to dice onions without crying. Well, we're part-way there, since we know exactly why it happens; the sulphur-based chemicals in an onion's fumes react with the water in your eyes to produce a weak solution of sulphuric acid, which stings. The tears are your body's attempt to flush out the irritant. There are a few well-known countermeasures (use a sharp knife, cut the onion under cold running water, chill the onion before slicing it, wear goggles), some of which may actually help But ultimately, it's probably best to smile and weep. As the ancient Egyptians realized, the onion, with its beautiful concentricity and its mysterious hidden layers, is more than a vegetable, it's a metaphor for life. Without a little pain now, the pleasures to come would be less sweet.
This article was written by Robert Hercz, a Toronto-based writer.