Can anyone over the age of 30 think of shallots without picturing Graham Kerr, the Galloping Gourmet, gallivanting about his TV kitchen, wine glass held aloft, emoting about shallots? Or perhaps, the word brings to your mind the scene from Anne of Green Gables where Anne is reciting lines from Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott, while her best friend, laid out resplendent as the doomed Elaine of Astolat, is slowly sinking in a dilapidated dingy.

            It shouldn’t be surprising that the mere mention of shallots doesn’t immediately cause us to salivate over memories of a past meal. For many years, our only experience with this bulb has been one of trying to find it, paying too much and then realizing that the bulbs were old, dry and pretty well tasteless. It’s probably fair to say that when a recipe calls for shallots, but suggests an onion as a substitute, we automatically make the substitution. 

It probably also didn’t help the cause of the shallot that the terms shallot and scallion have often been used synonymously. The term scallion is intended to refer to any onion in its young and green state, pulled from the ground before its bulb has fully matured, and used primarily for its green stems. This now adds to confusion between a scallion and a green or spring onion, which has further led many to believe that a green onion and shallot may be the same thing. The name confusion in the onion family is somewhat due its roots. The Greeks thought that the shallot originated in Ascalon, an ancient Palestinian city, and it was called “askolonion.” Both “scallion” and “onion” stem from this word. The truth is that it is more likely that the shallot originated in the Orient, but the names stuck.

So now we have a bad experience with shallots as well as confusion in terminology.  So why are famous chefs, especially the French, so mad about shallots?

            The thing is, a shallot does not taste the same as an onion. The flavour is a cross between that of an onion and garlic, but less assertive. French chefs for hundreds of years have depended upon the shallot to give their delicate sauces and soups just the right hint of onion/garlic flavouring without overpowering the other ingredients. In recipes where the onion is given as a suitable substitute for the shallot, it would be more proper to suggest a combination of both onion and garlic.

            I have to admit that until fairly recently, I didn’t know why I should waste my time looking for shallots. It was just by chance that I found some small, firm, dried brown shallots in my favourite Vietnamese grocery store. The term “dried” here refers to a mature shallot, which has been allowed to dry and cure, the stems are removed, but the inside is still moist. These bulbs are suitable for storing in a cool, dark and dry place for up to two months. “Green” refers to any onion that has been pulled early, often used predominately for the stems, but also the fresh, immature bulb. The fact that the shallot is used in much Vietnamese and Thai cooking lends more credence to the argument that the shallot originated in the Far East.

Today, shallots are grown in many countries and there is little reason not to be able to easily find freshly dried bulbs even in many grocery stores. We may not see the famous French grey shallots, which are often considered to be the only true shallot (by the French, of course!) but we will find the more common copper skinned dried varieties, as well as red and yellow skinned, with flesh colours ranging from white to purple.

It was here on Gabriola at the Farmers’ market that I found my first fresh shallots. I thought that they might be a red spring onion until the vendor told me what they were. She also warned me that they should be cooked slightly before eating. Of course I didn’t listen; they looked innocent enough. Wow! I got quite a kick of heat, which lasted several days. By day two, I was able to discern the subtle flavours of the shallot; unfortunately, so could anyone standing close to me! I’ve read that shallots shouldn’t give you bad breath, but I’d argue that point.

            And then, just yesterday, I went to the Good Earth Garden on South Road and found large, dried, purplish-white bulbs. They really do look like some other onions and in this case, almost like elephant garlic. I did ask just to confirm I had the right ones. When I got home, I cut one open and inhaled; I thought this would be smarter than taking a bite this time. What a fabulous smell!

I am now madly thumbing through my cookbooks to find a recipe to do these shallots justice. I think that I may make a filling for phyllo triangles using caramelized shallots, blue cheese, fresh thyme, and the pre-requisite walnuts and artichoke hearts from my pantry. Now that good quality shallots are more readily available, it would be a sin to substitute any longer. And I don’t consider that to be food snobbery, just plain good cooking!