WHY FRIENDS ARE LIKE FRENCH ONION SOUP

Few things in life are more comfortable and comforting than old friends. Long-time favorite restaurants and dishes come close, though, and when you get to enjoy all three at a time, well, then, you’ve just hit the comfort trifecta.

New York is full of iconic French restaurants: Daniel, Le Bernardin, Jean Georges, to name a few, as well as several newer but no less impressive additions. I’ve always had a soft spot for Balthazar, though, a brasserie in SoHo that has managed to stay a local favorite, despite the stiff competition.

Perhaps it’s the appeal of the familiar, consistently comfortable food. Balthazar is not known for trendy cuisine, but rather for the classics: escargot, duck confit, steak frites and the Balthazar salad. I doubt if anything even remotely resembling a foam has ever emerged from their kitchen or a kale leaf strayed into their salads. But, as jam-packed as it invariably is, the chaos that greets you when you walk in is as strangely comforting as the traditional dishes they serve.

French onion soup is a case in point, reminding me of an old but cherished friend that, for whatever reason, you just don’t see as much as you used to. Maybe you’ve become too busy, lactose-intolerant or gone ketogenic. But maybe, like we have with the company we keep, we’ve just gotten more selective.

When I was younger, a thick layer of cheese on the surface was enough to keep me coming around. As I got older, I realized it was all about what was underneath: properly caramelized onions, a deep and complex broth — thick layers of chewy but cheap cheese could no longer disguise any shortcomings in these areas. Speaking of which, I got more selective about the cheese, too. Nothing fake or plastic-y, please, just the high-quality and genuine cheese (preferably Gruyere), that I admit to still laying on a little thick.

Great French onion soup, like great friendships, needs a good base, and that means homemade stock. That’s actually not difficult; in fact, the best ones are pretty effortless. But they do take lots of time, patience and yes, a little heat, to develop that flavor.

So, my advice? Invest in the time and effort needed to renew or make great friendships and great soup. On their own, they’re completely worth it. And together? Well, I can’t think of anything better.