Once upon a time, a stroke of luck meant that we were freshmen roommates. over the course of the year, we discovered that we liked to spend the wee hours of the morning making impossibly elaborate desserts with naught but a couple of thrift store pots, a very chocolatey cookbook, and the enthusiasm and boundless energy of two teenagers living away from home for the first time. As the years went on, the desserts expanded into impossibly elaborate meals, and then just an impossibility as we tragically moved too far apart for more than an annual coming-together in which we attempted to make all the recipes we had been emailing each other for the last few months, leading to a serious strain on both stomachs and bank accounts. (But Thanksgiving 2011 was so. damn. good.)
We were lamenting the tragedy of the situation while in the midst of one of these gluttonous cookfests this last Christmas, when ixoj was in London. And then gradually it dawned that it was high time we exploited the wonders of the brave new world of technology in which we live (read: video chat) to further our ongoing quest to stuff our faces. And then we could put the recipes on our very own blog. It's not quite the same as sitting down together and devouring a portabello lasagna or going into raptures over a malted milk chocolate cheesecake, but it's better than nothing.
And so we now have a blog. Fed up with all the food styling and photography blogs masquerading as cooking blogs, and having to scroll through 50 million pictures of eggs perfectly lined up on pseudo-vintagey anthropologie plates, bowls of flour, sugar, and baking soda (really? as if we've never seen flour before), or about-to-be-zested-lemons on our way to a recipe, we decided that unless we happened to have a camera nearby or it would be helpful, this would be a photo-free (or maybe photo-"lite") blog (plus zillah's camera is cheap and pathetic and she doesn't know how to use it well, and the whole time difference thing makes the optimal lighting thing difficult, and we just don't really care). There will also be occasional posts about food-related deliciousness in our various cities of residence/travels (expect a lot of London--as soon as zillah leaves, ixoj arrives).
And so, on to the recipe.
Red Lentil Soup with Lemon
(adapted from 101 Cookbooks)
After several abortive attempts undermined by the vagaries of employment and time differences and visitors and so on, we finally managed our first trans-Atlantic rendezvous. And since it's soup weather in frigid London and ixoj is helping zillah overcome an aversion to lentils (it seems like a bit of a stumbling block for a destitute vegetarian) and this seemed like a good way to circumvent that lentilly mushiness (zillah has a texture thing), 101 Cookbook's red lentil soup with lemon seemed like a good way to go.
Recipe notes:
We both feel that Heidi's recipes tend to be a bit bland. Good, but bland. Bland isn't necessarily bad--pierogis are bland, but delicious, as are bread and oatmeal and spaetzle--but her recipes always promise a certain amount of taste-bud-ecstasy...and then...not so much. We adapted the recipe a bit to add some flavor, but both agreed that it needed even more--perhaps more ginger and lemon. The recipe seems to call for too much water, and immediately after pureeing, the soup seems really watery. It thickens up quickly, though, so you might need to add water if you heat it up the next day.
Zillah's reaction:
I have long hated lentils because of that strange combination of mushiness and graininess (mealiness?) that they tend to have (like beans. awful awful beans.). But it turns out that pureeing them smooth means no more mushiness or grittiness (or at least it's tempered enough not to be an issue). I think that the recipe would benefit from some spice--either chili powder or a fresh, chopped chili added with the garlic and ginger in the first step. I also don't think that it really needs the rice--next time I'd probably eat it with some sort of flat bread, since I felt a bit like I was eating a casserole, and I kind of hate most casseroles. Maybe the rice would work better if the soup were a bit thinner. I found some Cypriot yogurt on my walk home through Kentish Town, and it was uber-tangy (technical term) and delicious and cut through the blandness of the soup well.
Ixoj's reaction:
I have always loved lentils for most of the reasons that Zillah hates them. I'm a texture person in every kind of way (except for things that are squshily reminiscent of eye balls). The original recipe did indeed seem rather bland, but after the addition of plenty of garlic, ginger, and lemon, I thought it perked up nicely. If you enjoy a bit of heat with your meal, definitely add some chilies to the onions. And now about the rice. I ate several small bowls with slight variations. Bowl 1: soup and yogurt only. Bowl 2: an overly heaping scoop of rice, soup, yogurt. Bowl 3: a teensy spoonful of rice, soup, no yogurt. I thought the soup was great completely without the rice and great with a small spoonful of rice, but with a lot of rice it turned into something bordering on goulash. I like goulash, but soup masquerading as goulash is not my favorite thing. So my advice is to include the rice, but add it sparingly. I also thought it was a little weird to top the soup with spinach. If I were not planning on having leftovers, I would probably toss the spinach in to the pot of soup rather than serve it as a topping.
The recipe
(4-5 servings)
2 c. red lentils, rinsed
5 cups water or vegetable broth, plus more to thin the soup to your liking
1 T turmeric
4 T butter
sea salt
1 large onion, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, chopped
2.5" knob of ginger, peeled and grated
2 t cumin
1 t mustard seeds
Bunch of cilantro, chopped
Juice of at least 2-3 lemons--probably a bit more to taste
1 8 oz bag baby spinach, roughly chopped
warm, cooked brown rice
Greek yogurt
Bring the lentils to a boil with the water, turmeric, 1 teaspoon sea salt, and 2 tablespoons butter. Lower heat, cover, and simmer until tender (15-20 minutes). Puree. You may need to add more water after the soup thickens a bit.
Melt some more butter in a skillet. Add the garlic and ginger and cook until fragrant, then add the onion, cumin, and mustard. Cook over low heat until soft. Add the cilantro, stir briefly, and then remove from the heat. Stir the onion mixture into the soup, and then stir in the lemon juice. Add salt and pepper as necessary. Heat the remaining butter in the same skillet, then toss in the spinach and stir, cooking just until barely wilted.
Serve the soup with the rice, either in the bowl or on the side, and top with the spinach and some Greek yogurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment