Walla Walla sweet onions vs. Vidalias: Which one rules? (Poll) (2024)

View full sizeJeff Horner, Walla Walla Union-BulletinOnion World, a shop in downtown Walla Walla.

They'rrrrrrrrrrrre back! The annual return to market shelves of Walla Walla sweet onions may not be nearly as exciting as, say, the transit of Venus, but some people wait all year long for the mild-tasting orbs. For them, summer just isn't summer without thick slices of sweet onion brushed with olive oil sizzling on the grill. Or raw sweet onion slices brightening up a green salad. Or (for the truly gung-ho) chomping into a whole Walla Walla as if it were an apple.

Now, that's what you'd call loyalty, because from Maui to Georgia and all the way south to Peru, there are plenty of sweet onions in the world. In Walla Walla, Wash., where the 28th annual Sweet Onion Festival is coming up this weekend, folks claim that their onion is the only true, unadulterated sweet onion. Grown in southeastern Washington since about 1900, the Walla Walla sweet is the only variety on the market that is not a hybrid, claims Kathy Fry-Trommald, executive director of the Walla Walla Sweet Onion Marketing Committee.

Recipes included with this story: Walla Walla Salsa Salsa, Simply Stuffed Walla Walla Sweets, Creamy Onion Soup With Bay Shrimp, Peppered Peach and Sweet Onion Salad.

That doesn't stop fans of other sweet onions from touting theirs as the best in the world, as I found during a recent visit to Vidalia, Ga. The Vidalia sweet onion was first grown, completely by accident, in 1930 by a farmer named Mose Coleman. Coleman has a street named after him now. Never mind that he sold his onion field to make way for a Walmart and took the money and ran to where he wouldn't have to plant or pick another onion in what is thought to be the most labor-intensive, hands-on crop grown in the United States.

View full sizeVidalia Onion CommissionYumion, the mascot for Vidalia onions

Other than the Walmart and acres and acres of onion fields, which were already picked clean when I visited in May, there is little to see in Vidalia. Rich Williams of the Vidalia Convention & Visitors Bureau offers these directions: "Go to the middle of nowhere and turn left." Some old-timers still call Vidalia "new town," which is how it was first known when created as a refugee center for families displaced by Union Gen. William Tec*mseh Sherman's 1864 March to the Sea, which helped bring the Civil War to an end.

You can't deny Vidalia has history. The same can't be said for the Vidalia onion, especially when compared to Walla Walla's pride and joy. That sweet onion has real pedigree, complete with European ancestors. Walla Walla's onion hero, Peter Pieri, has no streets named for him, but his name is invoked whenever the local onion's century-old history is told.

Pieri was a French soldier stationed on the Mediterranean island of Corsica. Some people know Corsica as the birthplace of Napoleon; some people know it as the birthplace of the Walla Walla sweet onion, because when Pieri decided to immigrate to Washington state, he packed a bunch of onion seeds from Corsica. They were the foundation of today's Walla Walla sweet onion industry.

Frankly, except for that little hybrid detail, the two onion rivals seem to have more similarities than differences. They're both planted in the fall, in low-sulfur volcanic soil. This type of soil gives the sweet onions about half as much pyruvic acid as yellow onions. Pyruvic acid is the compound that gives onions their bite and causes you to cry when you chop them. With less pyruvic acid, sweet onions taste much milder than yellow onions. Yet despite their name, the sugar content of sweet onions is about the same as storage onions.

Sweet onions, however, are juicier than storage onions, because they contain more water. This means they're softer and have to be picked and processed by hand -- gently. At the packing plant I visited in Vidalia, one worker's job was to hold a cushion at the end of the conveyor belt so the prize No. 1-grade onions wouldn't bruise when they fell into the bin. For the same reason, their shelf life is short, a few weeks at most. Furthermore, both Vidalia and Walla Walla have federally protected growing areas, to guard against sweet onion imposters.

R.T. Stanley Jr. of Stanley Farms in Vidalia says he has lots of customers in Oregon and Washington for the Georgia-grown product, but because of regional loyalties, they stop buying from him as soon as the Walla Walla onions come to market in late June. This makes it hard to find a Vidalia locally for comparison. However, New Seasons recently had both, which allowed us to taste them side by side. The results?

Vidalia:

At first bite my mouth was flooded with pungency. The "bite" made my whole mouth and tongue tingle. But it immediately mellowed, leaving a very sweet and satisfying finish.

Walla Walla:

Completely the opposite. I got sweetness at first bite, followed by a tingling pungency. But then it became mild and left a sweet taste in my mouth.

The final verdict:

The Walla Walla follows a more circuitous path to its sweet finish, giving it more complex flavors. I got a similar answer from Bill Dean, director of research, technology and quality control at River Point Farms in Hermiston. Dean's on the advisory board for Walla Walla Sweets, but hey, he's a scientist and therefore objective, right?

"I've tasted onions from Peru and Chile and Georgia and California and lots of places and I still prefer the Walla Walla," he said.

It's a matter of terroir, he explains. And the Walla Walla soil and growing conditions give that onion a more complex flavor profile "that tells you that this is an onion," he says. The Vidalia may be milder or sweeter, but to Dean, flavor makes the winner.

Ultimately, it may be availability that dictates which onion you buy. And if the onions are used in cooking, it won't make much difference, because the "bite" is cooked out of them. All you're left with, whether it's an onion from Vidalia or Walla Walla, is a sweet onion. And that's a good thing.

Susan G. Hauser

is a Portland freelance writer and past president of Portland Culinary Alliance.

Sweet onions at a glance

In this corner, the

Vidalia

onion, a hybrid grown in Georgia since 1930 by about 100 farmers on 12,000 acres.

Season:

Late April to late August.

Shape:

White globe with a flat stem end.

Pronunciation:

Vie-DALE-yuh

Mascot:

"Yumion."

And in this corner, the

Walla Walla Sweet

, a heritage onion grown in southeastern Washington and northeastern Oregon since 1900 by about 30 farmers on 1,000 acres.

Season:

Mid-June to mid-September.

Shape:

White globe.

Pronunciation:

WAHL-uh (repeat)

Mascot:

"Sweety."

Sweet onion care

At the market:

Avoid onions with bruising or black powdery mildew beneath the skin. Don't worry if the skin is thin and a bit ragged; this is natural in sweet onions.

Dry storage:

Keep onions in a cool, dry, well-ventilated place, either spread out (not touching) atop newspaper or on an elevated rack or screen. Or stuff them one at a time into a clean pair of panty hose, making a knot after each onion. Hang in a cool, dry place and cut an onion free when ready to use. Onions can be stored this way for three to six weeks.

Refrigerate:

Keep in a single layer in the vegetable bin wrapped separately in paper towels or newspaper. For longer storage, wrap in foil. Sweet onions can absorb odors, so don't toss them unwrapped next to other produce.

Freezer:

Chop onions, spread on a baking sheet and place it in the freezer until frozen. Then, transfer onions to freezer containers or bags. Freezing changes the texture, so use the onion only for cooking.