Red Onion of Bloom

Red Onions..................sound good tonight.
Many know am often wandering in thoughts...
or working on something...

Red onions

I'm completely sure a search will turn up something interesting...
So first I'm finding....RECIPES...and so many more...

1. Ancho Red-Onion Flapjacks

2. Pecan & Red Onion Bread (this sounds wonderful)

3. Red Onion Raita

4. Oignons Confiture (Red Onion Relish)

5. Roasted-Red-Onion Ravioli

6. Green Bean And Red Onion Salad

7. Green Bean And Red Onion Salad With Radish Dressing

8. Green Bean And Red Onion Salad

9. White Bean, Radish and Red Onion Salad

10. Green Bean, Red Onion, And Roast Potato Salad

11. New Potato and Red Onion Salad

12. Cucumber, Red Onion And Watercress

13. Tangerine And Red Onion Salad

14. Endive, Beet And Red-Onion Salad

15. Endive, Beet and Red-Onion Salad

16. Arugula, Red Onion And Shaved Parmesan Salad

17. Romaine, Red Onion, and Fennel Salad with Tart Lime Dress

18. Potato And Red Onion Roast

19. Green Beans With Red Onion And Olives

20. Minted Green Beans With Red Onion

21. Marcia's Red Onion with Raspberry Vinegar

22. Roast New Potatoes w/ Red Onion

23. Grilled Mahimahi W/ Red Onion Couscous & Chunky Papaya Avoc

24. Green Brier's Pan-Seared Scallops On Red Onion Marmalade

25. Pan Seared Peppered Swordfish With Red Onion

26. Pan Seared Peppered Swordfish With Red Onion Citrus Salsa

27. Orechiette Pasta With Red Onion

28. Roasted-Red-Onion Ravioli

29. Shells With Tuna, Broccoli, And Red Onion

30. Red Onion Pizza (yum)

31. Grilled Chicken Sandwich With Smoky Red-Onion Salsa

32. Grilled Pancetta Crostini With Red Onion Marm

33. Grilled Pancetta Crostini With Red Onion Marmalade

34. Spicy Chicken, Eggplant & Red Onion Quesadillas - Mesa Grill

35. Sweet Balsamic and Red Onion Marinade

36. Spicy Red Onion-poblano Chile Relish

37. Warm Cucumber/Red Onion Relish With Mint

38. Red Onion Relish

39. Red Onion Salsa

40. Black Bean Chili with Red Onion Salsa

41. Mexican Red Onion Soup (Vegan)

42. Quick Garlic-Onion Soup With Red-Wine Crouton

43. Tart Tomato And Red Onion Soup

44. Wild Rice & Red Onion Soup

45. Papa Joe's Cucumber and Red Onion Soup

46. Red Onion Soup(yum)

47. Romaine Red Onion & Fennel Salad With Tart Li

48. Potato And Red Onion Roast (Vrg)

49. Grilled Tempeh With Red Onion & Eggplant

50. Grilled Tempeh W/red Onion & Eggplant

51. Grilled Tempeh with Red Onion & Eggplant

52. Pickled Red Onions

53. Pickled Red Onions

54. Pickled Red Onions

55. Pickled Red Onions

56. Armenian Potato Salad With Red Onions And Green Pepper

57. Sauteed Apples, Onions & Red Cabbage

58. Grilled Red Onions

59. Grilled Red Onions

60. Honey Baked Red Onions-Nhb

61. Steak With Honeyed Red Onions

62. Baked Chicken with Red-Peppered Onions

Let's see if I can pull this off...

There was a Red Onion from France
Who sat on her sweet roll askance
With cheese for a bed,
"A smell I quite dread"
From lettuce she hoped for a glance.

Red onions when sliced very thin
Water eyes on the cook, its a sin
It's delicious with food
When in the right mood
So best sliced when sad brood has set in.

Is that onion red?
The painter said.
while cooking
Looking
At the lead.
(that one maybe only for a painter)

I was wondering about red onions in art.....how about this then.....I put in a search engine "red onion art" finding this wonderful writing activity with children.
I'll link but briefly you...wait I read this...it's kind of odd. Actually. It's called the Red Onion of Doom....now how I might use it is to generate rings of writing, layers of meaning, sure...collaboratively, also good...but maybe a bit differently than this.
I think I might however like to work in that "Doom idea". I might, turn this around,
"The Red Onion (not of Doom and Gloom stories) but the Red Onion of Bloom".



I see myself getting red and other colors in printing ink.....tempera might fly ... to glop out to print with and slicing open a red onion, or you could do with other vegetables too. Then print these. I think you can easily turn them it flowers in a garden works, and I'm wondering....so I'll try it. Then write stories about the Red Onion of Blooms.
(Need I make the Bloom's Taxonomy connections???)
Each child telling the history of this "flower" maybe.
Well that's my idea...my associations with the red onion are far too positive to doom it....sheesh. I love them.
And to be honest......I'm not changing that perception.


Now this was red onion served differently.....on the search engines, some of doom for sure....

Lawn sculpture baffles spectators

The "Fighting Red Onion Head" sculpture on the HUB lawn may not be as recognizable ... Two weeks later, the dedication ceremony at the Palmer Museum of Art ...

I leave it to you to go look that over.


I love Molly Katzen. Do you know her cookbooks and art? I use them.
here is a Katzen recipe........

Pickled Red Onion

Red onions have a secret talent: they turn a beautiful, bright shade of purplish pink when doused with hot water and then stay crunchy and delicious seemingly forever.

Serve Pickled Red Onions in every imaginable context: next to or over hot or cold bean and grain dishes, with (or in) salads or sandwiches, on toast or crackers, with hors d'oeuvres—you name it.

2 medium-sized red onions (about 1 pound)
4 cups boiling water

Marinade

1/2 cup cider vinegar or unseasoned rice vinegar
1/2 cup water
3 tablespoons honey or sugar
1/2 to 1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon whole cloves (optional)

Peel the onions and slice them as thin as you possibly can. Transfer them to a medium-sized bowl.

Pour the boiling water into the bowl, and let the onions soak in the boiling water for 5 minutes. Drain thoroughly in a colander.

While the onions sit in the colander, combine the marinade ingredients in the same bowl, and mix well. Stir in the onions, and let them sit in the marinade for about 10 minutes.

Transfer the onions with all the liquid to a jar with a tight-fitting lid, and chill until very cold.

Yield: About 3-1/2 cups
Preparation time: 20 minutes, plus time to chill (10 minutes of work)

These keep for months if stored in a tightly-lidded jar in the refrigerator.

Do you Like the Santa Claus Blues, you might be interested in the Red Onion Babies...

And this great Clip which reminds me of later Woodie Allen movies, you get a little sea sick...

And i liked this appearing painting...

There are some strange things going n here
This won't be to lots of "tastes"...i'm not sure it's to mine.....

And finally in my ever poetry searching on red onion I find....

Philip Levine - The Whole Soul

Is it long as a noodle or fat as an egg? Is it lumpy like a potato or ringed like an oak or an onion and like the onion the same as you go toward the core? That would be suitable, for is it not the human core and the rest meant either to keep it warm or cold depending on the season or just who you're talking to, the rest a means of getting it from one place to another, for it must go on two legs down the stairs and out the front door, it must greet the sun with a sigh of pleasure as it stands on the front porch considering the day's agenda. Whether to go straight ahead passing through the ranch houses of the rich, living rooms panelled with a veneer of fake Philippine mahogany and bedrooms with ermined floors and tangled seas of silk sheets, through adobe walls and secret gardens of sweet corn and marijuana until it crosses several sets of tracks, four freeways, and a mountain range and faces a great ocean each drop of which is known and like no other, each with its own particular tang, one suitable to bring forth the flavor of a noodle, still another when dried on an open palm, sparkling and tiny, just right for a bite of ripe tomato or to incite a heavy tongue that dragged across a brow could utter the awful words, "Oh, my love!" and mean them. The more one considers the more puzzling become these shapes. I stare out at the Pacific and wonder -- noodle, onion, lump, double yolked egg on two legs, a star as perfect as salt -- and my own shape a compound of so many lengths, lumps, and flat palms. And while I'm here at the shore I bow to take a few handfuls of water which run between my fingers, those poor noodles good for holding nothing for long, and I speak in a tongue hungering for salt and water without salt, I give a shape to the air going out and the air coming in, and the sea winds scatter it like so many burning crystals settling on the evening ocean Jack Prelutsky - Bleezer's Ice Cream I am Ebenezer Bleezer, I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE, there are flavors in my freezer you have never seen before, twenty-eight divine creations too delicious to resist, why not do yourself a favor, try the flavors on my list: COCOA MOCHA MACARONI TAPIOCA SMOKED BALONEY CHECKERBERRY CHEDDAR CHEW CHICKEN CHERRY HONEYDEW TUTTI-FRUTTI STEWED TOMATO TUNA TACO BAKED POTATO LOBSTER LITCHI LIMA BEAN MOZZARELLA MANGOSTEEN ALMOND HAM MERINGUE SALAMI YAM ANCHOVY PRUNE PASTRAMI SASSAFRAS SOUVLAKI HASH SUKIYAKI SUCCOTASH BUTTER BRICKLE PEPPER PICKLE POMEGRANATE PUMPERNICKEL PEACH PIMENTO PIZZA PLUM PEANUT PUMPKIN BUBBLEGUM BROCCOLI BANANA BLUSTER CHOCOLATE CHOP SUEY CLUSTER AVOCADO BRUSSELS SPROUT PERIWINKLE SAUERKRAUT COTTON CANDY CARROT CUSTARD CAULIFLOWER COLA MUSTARD ONION DUMPLING DOUBLE DIP TURNIP TRUFFLE TRIPLE FLIP GARLIC GUMBO GRAVY GUAVA LENTIL LEMON LIVER LAVA ORANGE OLIVE BAGEL BEET WATERMELON WAFFLE WHEAT I am Ebenezer Bleezer, I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE, taste a flavor from my freezer, you will surely ask for more. I don't see Red onion but it would be good. I'm sure. Carl Sandburg - Onion Days MRS. GABRIELLE GIOVANNITTI comes along Peoria Street every morning at nine o'clock With kindling wood piled on top of her head, her eyes looking straight ahead to find the way for her old feet. Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti, whose husband was killed in a tunnel explosion through the negligence of a fellow-servant, Works ten hours a day, sometimes twelve, picking onions for Jasper on the Bowmanville road. She takes a street car at half-past five in the morning, Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti does, And gets back from Jasper's with cash for her day's work, between nine and ten o'clock at night. Last week she got eight cents a box, Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti, picking onions for Jasper, But this week Jasper dropped the pay to six cents a box because so many women and girls were answering the ads in the Daily News. Jasper belongs to an Episcopal church in Ravenswood and on certain Sundays He enjoys chanting the Nicene creed with his daughters on each side of him joining their voices with his. If the preacher repeats old sermons of a Sunday, Jasper's mind wanders to his 700-acre farm and how he can make it produce more efficiently And sometimes he speculates on whether he could word an ad in the Daily News so it would bring more women and girls out to his farm and reduce operating costs. Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti is far from desperate about life; her joy is in a child she knows will arrive to her in three months. And now while these are the pictures for today there are other pictures of the Giovannitti people I could give you for to-morrow, And how some of them go to the county agent on winter mornings with their baskets for beans and cornmeal and molasses. I listen to fellows saying here's good stuff for a novel or it might be worked up into a good play. I say there's no dramatist living can put old Mrs. Gabrielle Giovannitti into a play with that kindling wood piled on top of her head coming along Peoria. Street nine o'clock in the morning. Walt Whitman - This Compost. 1 SOMETHING startles me where I thought I was safest; I withdraw from the still woods I loved; I will not go now on the pastures to walk; I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea; I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh, to renew me. O how can it be that the ground does not sicken? How can you be alive, you growths of spring? How can you furnish health, you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain? Are they not continually putting distemper’d corpses within you? Is not every continent work’d over and over with sour dead? Where have you disposed of their carcasses? Those drunkards and gluttons of so many generations; Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat? I do not see any of it upon you to-day—or perhaps I am deceiv’d; I will run a furrow with my plough—I will press my spade through the sod, and turn it up underneath; I am sure I shall expose some of the foul meat. 2 Behold this compost! behold it well! Perhaps every mite has once form’d part of a sick person—Yet behold! The grass of spring covers the prairies, The bean bursts noislessly through the mould in the garden, The delicate spear of the onion pierces upward, The apple-buds cluster together on the apple-branches, The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves, The tinge awakes over the willow-tree and the mulberry-tree, The he-birds carol mornings and evenings, while the she-birds sit on their nests, The young of poultry break through the hatch’d eggs, The new-born of animals appear—the calf is dropt from the cow, the colt from the mare, Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato’s dark green leaves, Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk—the lilacs bloom in the door-yards; The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead. What chemistry! That the winds are really not infectious, That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea, which is so amorous after me, That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues, That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited themselves in it, That all is clean forever and forever. That the cool drink from the well tastes so good, That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy, That the fruits of the apple-orchard, and of the orange-orchard—that melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me, That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease, Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once a catching disease. 3 Now I am terrified at the Earth! it is that calm and patient, It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions, It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of diseas’d corpses, It distils such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor, It renews with such unwitting looks, its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops, It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from them at last. It's not an upper. Nor is this I found.......it spaced itself Red Onion Left to ripen underground, it secretly builds transparent striations of skin upon skin, each silky-thin, then swells to a purple-red globe, bulging, tinged with brown, packed tight in the papery casing, caked with dirt, a fringe of dried root underneath, but clean inside, a tincture that clings to the knife, stings eyes, sinks into fingers. Unlike the lotus, the onion cannot unfold; no, one must slice through the dripping pink nacreous heart of it. Then it’s a metaphor, as in: there are too many layers to peel back, to heal, for our relationship to survive; it must end. In AA they believe that separating the onion reveals the layers of truth within. On this level of the onion, I am crying. But as I am an "I" this is what I say of this red onion journey..... Red Onions Left in a cool place Dark pantry to rest Discovered sprouted Seeking light Planted and watered In the garden of my heart Grew there a flower Made a start The seasons of this onion Like the layers under the skin Go round and round In rings are bound And wait the inner spring When it Spouts again Some think of how it's eaten When from a harvest pulled Cut and sliced in two With tears that fall The wailing wall But what I know is of this earth The growing bulb The sprouting worth. I came back in morning. I have a red onion memory The formatting in this makes writing a mess. Mom and I once made egg dyes from the skins. Or at least I think it was egg dyes. We definitely found it powerful dye. I can call up to mind the dyes. And I did have friends that tinted wool. But for some reason we were in a time Experimenting with this. Natural cxolors from plants. Something in that is rather comforting. The time Mom and I.......