If you’ve ever looked at a bowl of French onion soup and thought, “Looks delicious, but that must require, like, a culinary diploma,” I get it. I definitely thought the same until my third attempt, when my kitchen smelled so good my neighbor poked her head in. For me, this soup is all about winter evenings when the wind howls (or, if you live in California, when Netflix asks if you’re still watching). It’s the kind of thing you make because you want to pretend you know what you’re doing—even if halfway through you’re googling the difference between caramelized and just… burned onions. (Ask me how I know.)

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Soup
I make this when my family needs a little cheering up—the kind of comfort that only slowly caramelized onions and bubbling cheese can provide. Honestly, even my picky cousin (who claims to hate onions in all forms) ends up scraping the bowl clean. And yeah, sometimes I grumble when I realize it takes a bit of patience, but it’s the sort of lazy, hands-off patience where you can scroll your phone while stirring every once in a while. Plus, the smell? Ridiculously cozy. My dog once spent the whole evening in the kitchen just hoping for a drop. He got a crouton (no onions for him, don’t worry).
What You’ll Need (And a Bit of Leeway)
- 4 big yellow onions, thinly sliced (if you only have red onions, it’s not traditional, but it’ll still work—my aunt swears by them)
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter (sometimes I sneak in a glug of olive oil if I’m short on butter)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon sugar (you can leave it out, but I think it helps when the onions are being a bit stubborn)
- 2 cloves garlic, minced (confession: I throw in three if no one’s coming over)
- 1/2 cup dry white wine (or just use extra broth if wine isn’t your thing—cheap wine is totally fine here, don’t use the good stuff)
- 1.5 liters (about 6 cups) good beef broth (store-bought is fine; my grandma used bouillon cubes, honestly—chicken broth in a pinch)
- 2 sprigs fresh thyme (or a pinch of dried, don’t stress if you’re out)
- 1 bay leaf
- Salt and loads of black pepper to taste
- 1 small baguette, sliced (sourdough works, or whatever bread’s not growing legs in your breadbox)
- 2 cups grated Gruyère cheese (Emmental or even cheddar works if that’s all you’ve got—in a crisis, I melted Monterey Jack. Not the same, but still edible!)
How to Pull This Off (Even If You’re Distracted)
- Peel and slice your onions—yes, it’ll look like a mountain. Melt the butter with olive oil in a big pot over medium heat. Add the onions and the sugar. Give it all a stir so everyone’s coated.
- Let those onions do their thing for about 40 minutes, stirring occasionally. They’ll shrink—a lot—and turn all golden and jammy. Don’t crank up the heat thinking it’ll go faster; I did that once and basically made onion chips (not as tasty as you might think).
- Toss in the garlic and let it get fragrant—maybe a minute or so.
- Pour in the wine, scrape up any stuck bits. If you skip the wine, that’s cool; just use a bit of the broth instead and keep going.
- Tip in the broth, drop in the thyme and bay leaf. Bring it to a happy simmer. Go make a cup of tea or, in my case, scroll on my phone while occasionally fishing out leaves of thyme that always somehow slip off the sprig.
- Let it bubble gently, lid half on, for about 30 minutes. Season it up—don’t be shy with the pepper.
- While the soup does its thing, heat the oven to 200°C (around 400°F). Toast your bread slices until golden and crunchy. I usually sneak a slice at this stage (chef’s rights).
- Ladle the soup into oven-proof bowls, float a bread slice on top, and cover with a good handful of cheese. Pile it higher than you think—the cheese never seems quite enough after melting.
- Pop the bowls under the broiler (grill, if you’re in the UK) until the cheese turns bubbly and brown. Side note: Don’t walk away like I once did—I spent 15 minutes trying to scrape burnt cheese off the oven floor.
- Careful—those bowls are scorching. Let them cool down a bit before diving in. Then go for it!
Small Discoveries (Aka, Notes From My Mishaps)
- Slice the onions as evenly as possible, but don’t sweat it—it’s homemade, not a restaurant kitchen
- Patience actually matters; rushing the onions gives you all sorts of weird flavors
- Taste as you go—sometimes broth brands are salty, sometimes they’re bland as plain noodles
- If you don’t have oven-proof bowls, just pile the cheese on your toasts and broil them separately, then float them on the soup. Not posh, but totally works
Variations I’ve Messed With (Some Winners, One Failure)
- Tried adding a splash of sherry at the end—really lovely if you fancy it
- Once I added a handful of crispy bacon bits to the cheese. Good, but not exactly traditional
- I made it with veggie broth and plant-based cheese for a vegan friend; not quite the same, but the texture was spot on
- Once, on a day of questionable decisions, I tried using rye bread instead of baguette. Let’s just say: not a repeat
What If I Don’t Have…?
Listen, if you don’t have fancy French soup bowls, just use mugs—it works fine, but they get hot, so use your oven mitts. No broiler? Melt the cheese in your regular oven on high heat, or even zap the topped bowls in the microwave (it’s not fancy but, hey, it’ll do in a pinch).
Where To Store The Leftovers (If You’re Luckier Than I Am)
French onion soup keeps really well in the fridge for about three days. Honestly, in my house, it rarely lasts longer than overnight. I think it tastes better the second day—like the flavors have been chatting all night and finally get along. Just don’t put the cheesy toasts in until you’re ready to reheat and eat.
How I Like To Serve French Onion Soup
Personally, I serve it with extra bread on the side (because there’s always a cheese thief at my table). Sometimes I’ll make a quick little salad on the side if I’m feeling responsible, but let’s be real—this soup steals the show. My brother dunks his bread like he’s bobbing for apples.
Stuff I’ve Learned The Hard Way (Pro Tips)
- Don’t even think of speeding up the onion cooking—it makes everything taste oddly sharp (I learned the hard way…twice)
- Gruyère is classic, but Emmental is fine, cheddar will do in a fix—just not blue cheese (trust me, it got weird fast)
- Let the cheesy toasts cool a moment so you don’t scorch the roof of your mouth (I always forget)
Ask Me Anything About French Onion Soup!
- Can I freeze the soup?
- Absolutely! Minus the toasts and cheese, freeze the soup base for up to two months. Defrost overnight. Cheese and bread are best added fresh.
- I hate wine; is it necessary?
- Nah, skip it! Replace with more broth, or use apple juice for a slight twist. Honestly, half the time I forget the wine anyway.
- My onions aren’t browning, what’s up?
- Heat’s probably too low or your onions are crowded. Or maybe you just need a bit more patience. Sometimes mine take longer than I expect.
- I want it veggie—what should I swap?
- Use veggie broth, skip the cheese or use a vegan version. Won’t be exactly like the French classics, but still quite heartwarming.
- Can I make this in advance?
- Soup base, yes (actually, I find it better the next day). Toast and cheese, just before serving or they get sad and soggy.
Oh, completely random: the first time I made this, I spilled about half a cup on my favorite socks. Warm toes, but not recommended. Anyway—give it a go and let me know if you figure out a way to peel onions without crying, because so far, I’ve got nothing.
Ingredients
- 4 big yellow onions, thinly sliced (if you only have red onions, it’s not traditional, but it’ll still work—my aunt swears by them)
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter (sometimes I sneak in a glug of olive oil if I’m short on butter)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon sugar (you can leave it out, but I think it helps when the onions are being a bit stubborn)
- 2 cloves garlic, minced (confession: I throw in three if no one’s coming over)
- 1/2 cup dry white wine (or just use extra broth if wine isn’t your thing—cheap wine is totally fine here, don’t use the good stuff)
- 1.5 liters (about 6 cups) good beef broth (store-bought is fine; my grandma used bouillon cubes, honestly—chicken broth in a pinch)
- 2 sprigs fresh thyme (or a pinch of dried, don’t stress if you’re out)
- 1 bay leaf
- Salt and loads of black pepper to taste
- 1 small baguette, sliced (sourdough works, or whatever bread’s not growing legs in your breadbox)
- 2 cups grated Gruyère cheese (Emmental or even cheddar works if that’s all you’ve got—in a crisis, I melted Monterey Jack. Not the same, but still edible!)
Instructions
-
1Peel and slice your onions—yes, it’ll look like a mountain. Melt the butter with olive oil in a big pot over medium heat. Add the onions and the sugar. Give it all a stir so everyone’s coated.
-
2Let those onions do their thing for about 40 minutes, stirring occasionally. They’ll shrink—a lot—and turn all golden and jammy. Don’t crank up the heat thinking it’ll go faster; I did that once and basically made onion chips (not as tasty as you might think).
-
3Toss in the garlic and let it get fragrant—maybe a minute or so.
-
4Pour in the wine, scrape up any stuck bits. If you skip the wine, that’s cool; just use a bit of the broth instead and keep going.
-
5Tip in the broth, drop in the thyme and bay leaf. Bring it to a happy simmer. Go make a cup of tea or, in my case, scroll on my phone while occasionally fishing out leaves of thyme that always somehow slip off the sprig.
-
6Let it bubble gently, lid half on, for about 30 minutes. Season it up—don’t be shy with the pepper.
-
7While the soup does its thing, heat the oven to 200°C (around 400°F). Toast your bread slices until golden and crunchy. I usually sneak a slice at this stage (chef’s rights).
-
8Ladle the soup into oven-proof bowls, float a bread slice on top, and cover with a good handful of cheese. Pile it higher than you think—the cheese never seems quite enough after melting.
-
9Pop the bowls under the broiler (grill, if you’re in the UK) until the cheese turns bubbly and brown. Side note: Don’t walk away like I once did—I spent 15 minutes trying to scrape burnt cheese off the oven floor.
-
10Careful—those bowls are scorching. Let them cool down a bit before diving in. Then go for it!
Approximate Information for One Serving
Nutrition Disclaimers
Number of total servings shown is approximate. Actual number of servings will depend on your preferred portion sizes.
Nutritional values shown are general guidelines and reflect information for 1 serving using the ingredients listed, not including any optional ingredients. Actual macros may vary slightly depending on specific brands and types of ingredients used.
To determine the weight of one serving, prepare the recipe as instructed. Weigh the finished recipe, then divide the weight of the finished recipe (not including the weight of the container the food is in) by the desired number of servings. Result will be the weight of one serving.
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