When we would visit, he would get so excited showing us his gardening successes that he would grab hold of a bunch or two and rip them out of the ground and then start munching. I always assumed they were quite crunchy (read: gritty) and passed on the snack. His excitement was understandable. He lived on some of the sandiest land in our community, and if you could get anything to grow, it was time for celebration. My grandmother coaxed a few of her rose bushes to produce buds each year and she was about as proud of those roses as my grandfather was of his onions.
Grandpa would send us home with a few of the onions and my mom would simply wash them and serve them raw with our summer lunches. They were quite sweet, with just a note of pungency. That’s why, when a friend of ours in NY made us Creamed Pearl Onions, I just knew they would be good, and they were. This year my husband is making them as his addition to our Thanksgiving meal. We use the frozen onions, because peeling that many little fresh onions would make me postal, and who needs that at Thanksgiving? They simmer in butter for a bit to cook and then you make a béchamel sauce, with a little herb added and you are done! What could be easier?