Modern convenience grants us many pleasures, and the ongoing availability of onions is one of them. The humble onion has long changed its status from seasonal to staple, and yet, lo and behold, it is indeed onion season, a glorious time of year when all manner of alliums come out to play. There are, of course, the workhorses (yellow, white, red), now in tip-top form, along with their taller, greener sisters (leeks, scallions), more flavorful than ever. And we can’t possibly forget A-lister cousin garlic and its coveted springtime variations (ramps! scapes!).
In Italy, there is one onion to rule them all: the Tropea onion, affectionately known as la regina rossa, the red queen. Take a look at the spicy, assertive red onion sitting on your countertop, then forget everything you know about it. The red queen is far more merciful—sweet and demure and intoxicating, gently taking hold of your senses before you realize it. Tropea onions hail from their namesake town in Calabria, nestled atop cliffs overlooking the Tyrrhenian coast, and particularly between Briatico and Capo Vaticano. The area’s beachside soil and moderate, sunny climate make these onions sweeter and milder than any other, delicious enough to eat like a freshly picked apple—not to mention on pizza, as an antipasto, or in sandwiches, jams, and even ice cream.
Tropea onions have long earned their regal reputation. It’s said they were brought to Italy over 3,000 years ago by the Phoenicians and the Greeks, and by the Middle Ages, they were fully adopted by the town of Tropea, thanks to centuries of cultivation by the Arabs. Today, you’ll find three varieties of Tropea onions in Italy: cipolla fresca, harvested in April, with a long stem and purply-pink bulb; cipolla da serbo, a beet-red torpedo and the most well-known of the bunch, harvested in June; and the cipollotto, a white spring onion lookalike harvested in October. All are cultivated by hand, then dried and woven into braids to preserve them until the following season.
Now that I’ve waxed poetic about Tropea onions, I’m loath to tell you that they’re impossible to find here in the States (some farmers markets sell similar versions), so today’s recipe doesn’t actually use them. BUT! But. Their sweetness, subtlety, and pretty pink hue did inspire this dish. As did a dish called spaghetti alle cipolle rosse e alici, spaghetti with red onions and anchovies, in which the two are paired with white wine or vinegar and cooked down until slightly-but-not-too jammy. (Anchovy-haters, don’t be afraid—this is a fishiness-free zone.) Here, a generous hit of pecorino adds lusciousness and a sprinkle of tarragon (perhaps the world’s most underrated herb) adds complexity, making a typical quick and easy weeknight dinner something more.
Easy, Creamy Red Onion Pasta
Serves 4