Red Lentil Soup

Growing up, my mother used to threaten us with soup.

Thirteen years into motherhood her enthusiasm for making family dinners plummeted. As a result my brothers and I underwent unique trials every evening at dinnertime. Soup is the perfect meal to prepare if you don’t want to decipher difficult directions, or slave over meticulous preparations. It is cheap, plentiful and can simmer on the stove without constant monitoring. It is God’s gift to the tired and to the weary, to the sick and to the stressed, and to the mother who cannot stand to make another damn dinner for the family she loves.

For months a plastic bag full of seemingly innocuous contents sat on the fourth shelf of our pantry. This bulging, two-pound sack of dried Nine Bean Fifteen Vegetable Soup loomed at us. My brothers and I secretly prayed that we would never be asked to eat it. But of course, that was wishful thinking.

Some time went by and the threat of the Nine Bean atrocity was forgotten, until the night that it ended up on our dinner table. After shooting my brother the stink-eye, while my parents were distracted by the six o’clock news, I took note of the bizarre substance staring back at me from my bowl. What the…? Beans in shapes I had never seen before floundered in a thick mess of vegetables whose color was several shades past appetizing. It smelled of overcooked cabbage and burned chili, and seemed to laugh maniacally as I swirled it around.

I lifted my spoon, and took my first bite.

“I think we should have this every night of the week,” my mother said, as I chewed the same mouthful for the third minute in a row. I swallowed the thick bean-vegetable paste, nearly gagging, and managed to squeak out “what?”

Ladling another scoop of the ominous brew into her bowl my mother sent me a look that said unless you want to make dinner every night you will not complain. Now EAT.

The prospect of facing this food foe not just once, but repeatedly for the rest of my young-adult days made me sick to my stomach. Looking up, I caught my father’s eye and tried to make out whether he was an ally, or planned to remain loyal to the current culinary regime. He smiled sympathetically, and raised a heaping spoonful to his mouth. Damn. I’d lost before I even had the chance to fight.

Needless to say soup was not a dear friend of mine. But as is the case with most childhood fears, over time the terror they evoke diminishes. And with a little more time I was able to give it another chance. I began with a few canned versions, then a few family recipes, and as my confidence grew (whether justified or not), I began to fall in love with soup.

It may perhaps be the perfect food. Soup can take on any flavor genre, it can be hot or cold, chunky or smooth. But most importantly, you really have to try to screw it up.

Red Lentil Soup

3 Tb. Olive oil

1 Large onion, chopped

6 cloves Garlic, finely chopped

5 Carrots, chopped

1 (28 oz) can Chopped tomatoes, drained

2 stalks Celery, chopped

1 Red bell pepper, chopped

5 Baby yellow potatoes, chopped

4 tsp. Cumin

1 tsp. Cayenne pepper

1 tsp. Salt

½ tsp. Pepper

2 cup Dried red lentils

6 cups Vegetable broth

1. Heat oil in the largest saucepan you have over medium heat.

2. Once the oil is warmed, add the onion and sauté for five minutes or until translucent.

3. Add garlic, carrots, tomatoes, celery, bell pepper, potatoes, cumin, cayenne, salt and pepper and sauté for ten minutes, stirring occasionally.

4. Add lentils and broth and simmer uncovered until the lentils and all the vegetables are tender (approximately 20-25 minutes).

5. Remove soup from heat and allow to cool just slightly (two minutes).

6. Food process, or immersion blend the entire soup and return to heat in the large sauce pan. (Unless you have a gigantic food processor or blender, you’ll need to do this in batches. Using a ladle or glass measuring cup, transfer the soup into the processor – making sure not to overfill it. Process until it is a uniformly smooth consistency, and put into another large saucepan. Repeat until all the soup has been processed).

7. Simmer the soup over medium-low heat for another 20 minutes, adjusting the spices until you are satisfied.

8. Enjoy!

(Printable Recipe)