Deborah Madison's Lentil Soup

This is getting serious.

Our bathroom has smelled like a hot Italian sausage for almost a week now. And I am guessing I'm alone in this problem.

Several days ago, I didn't feel much like cooking so I got a bunch of broccoli rabe, some dried pasta, a jar of Rao's marinara sauce (the best jarred pasta sauce ever), and one hot chicken Italian sausage. I boiled water in my rice cooker for the pasta, and set up the electric skillet by the bathroom sink. While the rigatoni plumped in salted water, I cooked the sausage in the skillet and then steamed the greens in their juices. It was a lovely, easy, spicy meal.

The next morning as I made coffee, I noticed that in addition to the familiar smell of nutty, bitter coffee grinds giving off steam in my Chemex coffee pot, that there was also the very strong smell of pork casing, garlic and oil. Yuk.

So I flung open the window, despite this weeks freezing temperatures, and aimed to air the smell out. Well, that did not work and I was left with a freezing cold pot of coffee and a runny nose.

I have tried scented candles, eucalyptus oil, scrubbing down all surfaces, hot showers to steam it out, the window is permanently agape and several batches of chocolate chip cookies baked in the toaster oven. It lingers on.

I am at the end of my rope. As of now, there is an indefinite ban on any sausages or stinky foods, and in order to combat the cold air constantly circulating in the bathroom, a pot of lentil soup was called for. Rich, spicy and warming, never smelly.

This afternoon, if you're wondering what I might be up to? I'll be furiously scrubbing the walls and tiles wearing a pair of hot pink latex gloves. Because you can hide, but you can't run. 

I'll get you yet.

Deborah Madison's Hearty Lentil Soup from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

2 tbs. olive oil

2 cups finely diced onion

3 large garlic cloves

salt and freshly milled pepper

3 tbs. tomato paste

 1/3 cup finely diced celery

1/3 cup finely diced carrot

2 bay leaves

1/2 cup chopped parsley

1 1/2 cups French green or brown lentils, sorted and rinsed

1 tbs. Dijon mustard

1 tbs. sherry vinegar or red wine vinegar

Chopped celery leaves and parsley

Heat the oil in a soup pot over high heat. Add the onion and saute until it begins to color around the edges, 5 to 7 minutes. Meanwhile mince or pound the garlic in a mortar with 1 tsp. salt. Work the tomato paste into the onion, then add garlic, celery, carrot, bay leaves, and parsley and cook for 3 minutes. Add the lentils, 2 quarts water, and 1/2 tsp. salt and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer, partially covered, until the lentils are tender, 25 to 35 minutes.

Stir in the mustard and vinegar. Taste and add more of either as needed. Check the salt, season with plenty of pepper, remove the bay leaves and serve, garnished with the celery leaves and parsley. The longer the soup sits before serving the better it will taste.

Mixed Vegetable and Farro Soup

Perhaps I've given the wrong impression.


Over the past few months people have asked me, do you really cook every day? How do you do it?!


Well, let me clear this up, I do not cook every day, and in fact the past few weeks have been like this: I run around the city all day, my eating habits deteriorating with every panini and piece of cake I pass, skipping meals, gorging myself on sweets, forgetting to drink water, and then arriving home around eight to a fridge filled with half rotten vegetables, and a computer whose only use-of-late is looking up take-out menus. This all leads me to feel depressed, tired and cranky.


So, I have to ask myself, what happened? I know where to buy good food and I know how to make it but why don't I do it?


Several weeks ago I was in Philadelphia eating Thai food with my friend Liz and she was lamenting her own eating habits. She's in the process of training for a marathon and even though she knows a slice of pizza is not a decent meal, it still winds up on her dinner plate far too often. 


Then, the other day I was watching the Dr.'s, which always seems like a ridiculous show to me because the doctors all look like models and sell a colonoscopy like it was oxiclean, and they were each sitting with their favorite "bad food" in front of them, pasta, ice cream sundae, cake, etc. And while they were talking about how sugar has the same effect on the brain as crack, they were eating away, flirting and batting heavily made-up eyelashes. 


After rolling my eyes at their tans and four inch heals, I have to agree that sugar is a powerful substance. Usually when I notice I'm cooking less, it's because during the day I'm eating a lot of white flour and sugar in all sorts of combinations and then at night I just crave more. As a result I feel lethargic and fall into all kinds of unhelpful behavior, including not wanting to cook.


I have read a lot about food and everyone has their own idea of a healthy diet. Eat all organic, eat real foods, eat local, eat low fat, eat low carb, eat raw, re-alkaline your body, reduce candida, count calories, count fat, eat on a smaller dinner plate, don't eat after dinner, drink only juice for a week, eat macro, eat vegan, eat only what you grow and on and on. But the most helpful idea for me, when I'm feeling out of whack and I start getting sick and lose interest in my cookbooks is, eat mostly plants. 


Somehow this simple little mantra, shakes up my eating habits, guides me back to the kitchen and gets me feeling better. For me this does not mean eat salad for every meal, or that if you go out to a fabulous restaurant pick at a side dish of broccoli rabe all night, but it does make me think before I eat. And before I know it, I've got fresh vegetables in the fridge, I'm stopping by Angelica Kitchen for lunch rather then eating a piece of pound cake from Starbucks, or I'm getting a cocktail of green juice from the health food store that I've forgotten is right around the corner.


There is a lot I can do in my bathroom with regards to cooking but the one thing I envy about people with kitchens is their freezer space. I think that freezers are little miracles to the working, stressed out people of today who wish they had more time to cook but lets face it, just don't. So Liz, I know you don't have a lot of time, but I do know you have a fantastic new knife perfect for chopping vegetables and a decent freezer. So here is my suggestion to eating better, in addition to eating more plants, on a Sunday or whenever you have a couple of hours, make a pot of soup or two or some chili or a stew, buy some single or double serving Tupperware, fill them up and freeze the hell out of them. That way when you come home tired and hungry with only condiments and sludgy containers of take-out in your fridge, all you need to do is look up, pull a frosty hunk of homemade soup from your freezer and warm it up. 


You don't need to cook every day in order to eat home-made food. 

Mixed Vegetable and Farro Soup (Food + Wine, October 2010)

3 tbs. extra-virgin olive oil

2 celery ribs

1 medium onion, thinly sliced

1 medium leek, white and pale green parts only, thinly sliced

1 cup farro or wheat berries

1 tbs. tomato paste

2 quarts water

1 fifteen ounce can borlotti or pinto beans, drained and rinsed

2 large carrots halved lengthwise and sliced crosswise 1/4 inch thick

1 1/2 cup frozen peas

Salt and freshly ground pepper

2 tbs. thinly sliced basil

In an enameled cast-iron casserole, heat the oil. Add the celery, onion and leek and cook over moderately high heat, stirring a few times, until softened, 5 minutes. Add the farro and tomato paste and cook, stirring until the grains are coated and shiny, 30 seconds. Add 1 quart of water and the beans and bring to a boil. Simmer over low heat for thirty minutes. Add the carrots and the remaining 1 quart of water. Cover and cook over low heat until the carrots are tender, 30 minutes. Add the peas, cover and cook until tender, 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, top with basil (and I grated some good Parmesan cheese on top).

*note

the above photos are of cranberry beans also known as borlotti beans, canned or fresh work equally well.

Padma Lakshmi's Yellow Velvet Lentil Soup with Cumin and Dried Plums

There has been a lot of hate in the air lately, especially in New York City. 


Intolerance, violence, and protests of a harsh nature, combined with record breaking heat waves have made this a difficult and tense August to say the least. Especially in lower Manhattan, and I think everyone is happy to return to a fall routine and give their air conditioners a rest.


For the past few weeks it has been too hot too cook and I've been making a lot of salads, or simple meals out of rotisserie chickens, some fresh bread and sliced tomatoes or greens sauteed with garlic and olive oil. It is all I've been able to manage. But this Labor Day weekend has brought with it a hint of fall and a craving for soup. And a desire to, well, labor over a meal again.


But what kind of soup?


Soups, like the cuisines they come from, are all good for different needs. There are rich, decadent soups like creamy clam chowder when you want to indulge, celebration soups like delicate homemade tortellini, nourishing soups like chicken noodle and miso, everyday soups like barley and lentil, ramen for winter nights, and sweet and sour for a pick-me-up, and then there are stews, cold soups, fruit soups, purees and the list goes on.


But what to eat when you're in need of some spiritual healing? Maybe you had to work all summer? Your vacation was too brief? Or you had too much time off and are worried about getting back to work? Or maybe you're still looking for a job? Or politics have got you down and it seems like the world grows more divided by the minute.

In times like this, I am drawn to Indian and Middle Eastern Flavors. I want something, cleansing but full of healing spices, meatless, but rich and satisfying, and a soup that is easy to make and tastes even better the day after.


During my last visit to my parents house, I went through the many boxes of my things that used to be the contents of my old apartment and threw half of it out, books, old shampoo bottles, birthday cards, shoes,  yellowed curtains, broken ceramics and all the little odds and ends that once meant something, but now, I no longer cling to. The one box I couldn't wait to open though was my cookbook box. When I packed it two and a half years ago, I thought it would be opened within six months, my books perched on a shelf in our new kitchen. But months went by and they waited patiently until a couple of weeks ago when I stuck a pair of scissors into the packing tape and sliced it open. 


I don't think I ever imagined I'd be cooking in my bathroom, but my cookbooks don't seem to mind and I'm so happy to have these old friends on my shelves again, even if it's not over a four range gas top stove. One cookbook I've barely used and am looking forward to exploring is Tangy, Tart, Hot and Sweet by Padma Lakshmi. Yesterday I made her Yellow Velvet Lentil Soup with Cumin and Dried Plums and it was just what I was craving. Cleansing, spicy, soothing and a perfect way to transition out of the final weeks of flip flops and shorts, into sweaters and boots. Along with a loaf of sprouted bread and her chili honey butter it made a perfect lunch. If I were to make this for dinner, I might add a side of steamed greens like swiss chard, kale or spinach, with some sliced garlic, salt and olive oil for added flavor.


Here's to a spring in your step and a peaceful fall.

Yellow Velvet Lentil Soup with Cumin and Dried Plums
3 cups orange (masoor) lentils, washed well with warm water and drained
1 bay leaf
1 tsp. salt
2 tbs. olive oil (I used coconut oil)
1 tsp. cumin seeds
1/2 cup chopped shallots
1 1/2 tbs. minced ginger
2 1/2 tbs. shredded unsweetened coconut
1 cup grape or cherry tomatoes, halved lengthwise
3 plum tomatoes, quartered
2 tsp. curry powder
juice of one lemon
10 dried plums, pitted, chopped to bits (I used prunes and I think golden raisins would be nice too)
1 cup freshly chopped cilantro leaves


Fill a deep stew pot with the lentils, bay leaf, salt, and enough water to cover the ingredients by 1 inch. Simmer on very low heat for 1 hour. (I covered the pot and stirred every now and then adding water as needed). 


Heat the oil in a skillet and add the cumin seeds. After 2 minutes, add the shallots and ginger, and cook until the shallots are glassy. Add the coconut and stir until the coconut is golden brown. Add all the tomatoes and curry powder, and saute on medium heat for about five minutes until the tomatoes start to wilt and lose their shape. (I had to add a few tbs. of water and cover in order to get the tomatoes to break down). When the mixture forms a cohesive paste, add it to the lentils, stirring over low heat until nicely combined. Remove the bay leaf. With an immersion blender, pulverize the lentils so that the whole mixture is roughly blended but not totally liquified.


Remove the soup from the heat and add the lemon juice, chopped plums, and cilantro. Stir and serve hot. Serves 8.


*note
if you want to make this all in one pot like I did, you can cook the shallots, spices and tomatoes in your soup pot first, and then set this paste aside while you cook the lentils. no need to clean out the pot in between steps either.


Chili Honey Butter
8 tbs. unsalted butter at room temperature
1 1/2 tbs. honey
1 tsp. cayenne
pinch of salt


Combine all the ingredients until smooth and well blended. Store in a container in the fridge.


Rice Cooker Greens
To make greens in your rice cooker, slice a few cloves of garlic and throw them in, give a little splash of olive oil, toss a few handfuls of washed greens in, chopped if you like, add a pinch of salt, a few tbs. of water, close and cook until wilted, stirring once. My cooker has a steamer setting which I use but you could turn it to any setting. 

Mexican Soup

Last week as I was perusing the produce section of our local Whole Foods, I watched as an attractive and very smartly dressed woman wheeled over to the tomato section with her shopping list, carefully scanned the pallets of pasty orbs and selected a large pinkish tomato from the group. She held it up and with eyes squinted, scrutinized every surface of the fruit. If I was casting a Law and Order Episode, she would get the part. The intensity with which she checked for bruises and blemishes was Emmy worthy. With a satisfactory nasal exhalation she placed it in her basket, and carried on with the rest of her shopping. 

All I could think was, I sure am glad I'm not eating at her house tonight.

A few years ago some friends of mine and I were talking about food and the topic of tomatoes came up. We all agreed we loved them except for one woman. "Eww, I hate tomatoes!" "What? Why?" we all implored? "They taste like water and they're sour." she defended. "But have you ever had a real tomato?" we posed, we knew where this was going.

Our friend, born and raised in the Bronx, at that point, had never lived outside New York City whereas the rest of us were country girls. She was right. The tomatoes sold in Bronx supermarkets were pallid, waxy, flavorless rip-offs with a crunch. But come to think of it, that describes pretty much every tomato in every US grocery store from about October to July. When the US got its railroads, and consumers grew to expect out of season fruits and vegetables in their stores, tomatoes were bred to travel long distances, endure fluctuating temperatures and grow to a uniformly round and rosy shape. Flavor was their least concern. In my opinion, these are not real tomatoes and should be purchased with caution.

When cutting into a real tomato, such as a beefsteak or an heirloom, it should look like a bloody massacre on your cutting board. You should have to check you're fingers to make sure all digits are still intact. Real, ripe tomatoes from someone's garden or local farm are sweet, sultry and no two look alike. They should never be refrigerated and should be eaten as soon after picking as possible.

But even for those of us who know what a real tomato tastes like, why do we still expect a pale slice on a hamburger in December or crisp wedge on a salad in March? It has no flavor and I bet most people pick it off anyway. 

The other day I was back in Whole Foods shopping for my Mexican soup and I knew I wanted some tomato in there. I was determined to do better than the woman before me but the selection was grim. These tomatoes were trying really hard, the overhead lighting reflecting off all their good parts, but I was not fooled and decided to pass. Then I noticed little plastic boxes of multicolored tomatoes that read, taste the world's flavors, Gourmet Medley, Product of Canada. They were red, orange, yellow and black. What the hell I thought, it's worth a try.

At home I rinsed them off, said a prayer and popped one in my mouth. I might as well get sucker tattooed across my forehead. They were okay but not great. I used them anyway, no use wasting food but come August, I'm eating tomatoes like there's no tomorrow. I can't wait to get one on my plate, fleshy, sweet, and bloody, watch out Freddy Krueger, here I come.

This recipe is a riff on a soup I like to get at the restaurant Rice. I made enough for two and used chicken thighs but making a big pot with a whole chicken is best. Feel free to experiment.

Mexican Soup


3 to 4 chicken thighs with skin and bones, trim some of the skin
1 yellow onion, sliced into rounds
1 clove garlic
1 avocado, diced
1 large tomato or several small ones, diced
1 ear of corn, kernels cut off the ear
1 lime, juiced
1 tbs. cilantro, roughly chopped
1 cup cooked rice
salt + pepper


Wash and pat dry the chicken. Season with salt and pepper and brown in a pot or deep skillet. Add seven cups of water, the onion, garlic and a heaping teaspoon of salt and some black pepper and simmer covered for about an hour (longer if you have time) until the meat is falling off the bone. Remove the chicken and skim any scum or oil off the top. Let the chicken rest until it's cool enough to shred. Add the corn to the still simmering broth and cook for a few minutes until tender. Turn off the heat and add the chicken, tomato, avocado cilantro and lemon juice. Some finely chopped Serrano chili would be good too or more slices of onion. Adjust seasoning if you need to. I usually need to add a little more salt and pepper. Then put 1/2 cup of rice in your bowl and ladle the soup on top. A dash of tabasco would be good for a little kick.

For dessert I broiled a container of fresh cut pineapple from the store in my toaster oven just until the edges started to brown. It was a delicious end to the meal.