In my grandmother’s cozy kitchen, one ritual always caught my attention: before cooking, she’d take a whole onion

and pierce it with cloves. As a child, I didn’t grasp its meaning, but years later I learned it was a

traditional French technique called oignon piqué — a small act with extraordinary flavor and purpose.

By inserting cloves (and sometimes a bay leaf) into an onion, she created a natural flavor infuser.

As soups or sauces simmered, the onion’s sweetness and the clove’s warm spice slowly blended, enriching the dish without overpowering it.

The key compound in cloves, eugenol, releases gently when heated, adding subtle depth and a comforting aroma that lingers throughout the meal.

This method was also practical — the cloves stayed anchored, easy to remove before serving, ensuring perfect balance without

surprise bursts of spice. A single clove-studded onion could transform a broth, béchamel, or roast into something extraordinary.

Now, when I repeat that ritual, I’m reminded of her patience and care. It’s more than a cooking trick — it’s a legacy of love,

proof that the simplest traditions can connect generations through memory, aroma, and the quiet art of doing things with intention.