Yellow Lentil Soup: Lemony Comfort Food

Here in the Virginia Piedmont, we got about a foot of snow yesterday. Between shifts of shoveling, I made creamy yellow lentil soup based on an Eqyptian recipe. I don’t know how authentic the original was, so I sure don’t think my version can be called Egyptian, but it is soothing comfort food. And, the lemon juice and grated peel make it as bright as its yellow-orange tint, also welcome in the bleak midwinter.

Yellow and red lentils are staples in my kitchen, in part because they taste delicious, in part because they cook FAST, usually in 20 to 30 mins.

moong dal

moong dal

I buy the lentils at Durga Indian grocery store in Woodbridge, Va., where I find colorful dal, fresh nuts, all manner of beans, flours, fragrant incense, and many hard-to-find ingredients. For my Fredericksburg friends, it is worth the trip if you want fresh staples for Indian cooking. And, the owner is helpful and a friendly conversationalist.

Yellow Lentil Soup
Makes a big pot — probably enough for a hearty meal for about 6
Sometimes I add grilled chicken or other meat as a garnish. This soup is delicious with cornbread.

1 pound dried yellow lentils or mix of yellow and red (half tiny red massor dal with half yellow moong dal)

massor dal

massor dal


1 bay leaf
1 medium tomato, chopped (canned work great)
1 medium potato, peeled and cut into 1 inch slices (I have substituted 1/2 cup short grain rice for this; works great)
1 medium carrot, peeled and sliced
2 teaspoons salt

1 tablespoon ghee, butter, or olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
4 cups stock
1 teaspoon cumin, toasted
2 cloves
1/2 tsp white peppercorns
1/4 tsp cinnamon
black pepper to taste

grated peel of one lemon
juice of one lemon

1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

Inspect lentils for debris then wash well in several changes of water until the water runs clear. Drain. In a stock pot, combine lentils and enough water to cover by about 3 inches. Add bay leaf, tomato, potato (or rice), carrot, and salt. Slowly bring to a simmer, skimming foam from the top. Cover and simmer 30 to 45 minutes, or until the lentils are completely cooked through and soft.

Remove lentils from heat. Puree very well, adding water if the lentils are too thick to puree. (I use a hand held immersion blender. You can use a blender or food processor, but let the lentils cool so you don’t burn yourself.)

Toast cumin in a small skillet. When cool, grind in spice grinder with 2 cloves and white peppercorns. Add ground cinnamon. (If you prefer, use already ground spices. If you grind them yourself, they have a longer shelf life and a more brilliant flavor.)

In a medium skillet, heat ghee or butter or olive oil. Add onion and spice mix, sauté slowly until the onions are caramelized, about 20 mins. You can saute for less time, but the onions — and hence the soup — won’t taste as rich.

In the stock pot, add the caramelized onion/spice mix to the pureed lentil/veggie mix. Add one quart hot stock. Heat the soup through. Add lemon juice and finely grated lemon peel. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Serve garnished with finely minced parsley.

Saline, Porcine: Must be Christmas in Virginny

whole-hamI once heard a Yankee come-here complain about Virginia weddings. “They always have that ham,” she said, with her nostrils flared and eyebrows raised, “and biscuits. AND they act like it’s something special.”

Well, yes. We do. And yes. It is.

Spaniards have serrano, Italians have prosciutto, Tyroleans have speck; we have Virginia ham — country, salt-cured.

My grandmother hung her hams in the smokehouse by the chicken room. Smoke seemed to seep from the wood in the ceiling and the air felt crusty from the salt as it hit the nostrils. I loved to drop by her kitchen for homemade bread with little chunks of cold butter and a thin slice of her ham. Special? You bet.

At Christmas, many homes back then had a baked salt-cured ham waiting in the fridge for “when people dropped by.” A country ham biscuit with a punch cup full of bourbon-laced eggnog was a welcome, singular flavor combination that transported you to Christmas. And everyone agreed that Sue Eustace’s hams were the best. She insisted it wasn’t in the curing, but in the baking. Her recipe is far afield from any other I’ve seen for Virginia ham, and it remains our family’s favorite way to bake them.

It’s Christmastime again, and a native-Virginia friend called last night to ask how to cook a country ham. I thumbed through my recipes and found Aunt Sue’s method for Bill, who will be serving it to his parents, children, and siblings. And here it is for you, too, just in time for Christmas.

Aunt Sue’s Country Ham
Sue Eustace, Catlett, Va.

A roaster with a tight lid or a large baking pan with heavy duty foil to cover.
A whole or half salt-cured country ham

Soak the ham as you normally would. [I soak mine for at least 24 hours, changing the soaking water from time to time.] Scrub the mold, pepper, etc. off the ham.

Preheat oven to 500˚ F.

Put the ham in the roaster pan w/6 cups water. Close as tightly as possible. Put ham in preheated oven; cook for 15 minutes. Don’t open the oven while it is cooking or afterward.

Turn off heat, but leave the ham/roaster in oven. Leave for three hours.

After three hours, without removing ham from oven, reheat oven to 500˚. When the temperature reaches 500˚, leave the heat on for 15 minutes. Turn off heat, but again leave the ham in the oven. This time, leave the ham until it and the oven reach room temperature.

(I usually start this process about four hours before bedtime so that the last heating comes just before bedtime. I leave the ham in the oven until morning.)

A note – it is relatively easy to bone the ham while it is slightly warm or at room temp. Once it is cold, it is too hard to bone.

Trim off skin and serve.

Saag for Seth, or Indian Comfort Food

indian-veg-cookeryWEB
There’s pleasure and comfort in the stained pages of a long used and trusted cookbook. Tonight I pulled two such books from the shelf to find tried and true instructions for red massor dal and saag gosht.

Tomorrow is a friend’s last day at work, and he requested Indian from my kitchen for the send-off lunch. These recipes are some of the best “comfort /nothing says lovin’ like something from the oven” foods I know.

The massor dal – red lentil – recipe I began making in the early 1980s. It comes from Indian Vegetarian Cookery by Jack Santa Maria, a funky little paperback I bought at Eats, the Blacksburg Food Coop, for $3.78 – member price. My copy is now held together with bow-tied kitchen twine. It was published in the UK in 1973, is spiced with Hindu wisdom and food-related folk tales, is one of my favorite cookbooks, and has the easiest, tastiest dal recipe I know.

Another well-worn book was a gift from my mother in the mid-’80s. I was living in Mobile, Ala., and dear friend Kim invited me in for Indian – the culinary heavens opened for me that night when she served chicken kabuli, various curried vegetables, and homemade naan. It was my first taste of Indian cuisine, and Kim suggested Classic Indian Cooking by Julie Sahni, if I wanted to try my hand at it. Boy, did I! Indian was my next culinary adventure, inspired in part by the non-existence of an Indian restaurant in Mobile. From 1,000 miles away in Virginia that book arrived by mail in time for me to open it on Christmas morning. Thanks, Mom!

Over the years, Julie Sahni has taught me a lot in those pages. Chicken kabuli is still a staple in my kitchen. But beautiful spinach at the Farmers Market inspired me to go for the spinach and stewed beef for the farewell lunch.

Perhaps I should say Seth inspired the whole evening of cooking and reminiscing about the loved ones for whom I have prepared these dishes. Tonight’s cooking is for you, Seth, on your departure from our professional environs – goodbye and wonderful things to you!

Both recipes follow.

Red lentils (massor dal)
From Indian Vegetarian Cookery by Jack Santa Maria

1 cup dry red lentils (these days, I use half tiny red massor dal in combination with half yellow moong dal. This suggestion came from the owner of the wonderful Durga grocery in Woodbridge, Va. It is the best Indian food shop in NoVa.)
1 tsp poppy seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp paprika or hot chili pepper flakes
1 tsp turmeric powder
1tsp salt
2 tsps dry coriander seeds
6 whole cloves
2 inch piece cinnamon
4 green cardamoms
1 cup grated coconut, dry unsweetened
4 black peppercorns
4 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons veg oil
2 onions, chopped

Wash the lentils and bring to boil with salt and enough water to cover. Cook at a slow simmer. Meanwhile grind all the remaining ingredients except onions and salt. [You can use already ground spices, especially cinnamon which is hard to grind, and add to the coconut and minced or ground garlic. You also could you a prepared curry powder or garam masala here, but you won’t get quite the same flavor. ]

Heat the oil and sauté the onions slowly until they are caramelized. This takes about 20 minutes, but you don’t have to stand and stir the entire time. Just don’t let them burn.

When onions are done, add the ground spice/coconut/garlic paste (masala paste) and fry for a few minutes. I usually turn down the heat and let this cook a bit longer than a few minutes. Let your nose tell you when it is ready – it will smell toasty.

When the lentils are soft and ready to serve,usually after about an hour, add salt to taste. They should be soupy as the masala mix will take up a good bit of the liquid when added. Stir the masala paste into the lentils, and add a little boiling water if need be to keep them a nice stew consistency. Serve with naan and/or hot rice.

classic-indian-cookinWEB
Saag Gosht (Beef in Fragrant Spinach Sauce)
From Julie Sahni’s Classic Indian Cooking
Makes a lot – serves at least 8
3 cups cooked spinach
6 tablespoons light vegetable oil
3 lbs. beef stew meat, in 1 ½” cubes (lamb, goat, and venison also work well here)
3 1/2 cups thinly sliced onions
1 1/2 tablespoons minced garlic
3 tablespoons minced fresh ginger root
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2 tablespoons ground coriander
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 cup chopped tomato (can use canned)
3 green chiles, minced (use mild red peppers if you prefer)
3 tablespoons plain yogurt or sour cream
1 cinnamon stick, broken in small pieces
6 black, or 12 green, cardamom pods
9 whole cloves
3 bay leaves, crumbled
1 tablespoon salt or to taste
4 teaspoons garam masala or prepared curry powder
2 tablespoons light vegetable oil, if needed

Some people cook the spinach for an hour with the beef. I prefer to fold in the cooked spinach just before serving. You can substitute kale, collard, or mustard greens, or combine any of these with the spinach.

Cook and drain the spinach – you will need 3 cups in the end. You can use frozen spinach if you prefer, but it won’t be velvety. Set aside cooked spinach until needed.

Wash the meat cubes, dry on paper towels. Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large frying pan (I use cast iron) over high heat until very hot. Sauté the beef in small batches so the frying pan is not overcrowded. You want the meat to brown, not steam.

After beef is all browned, set aside, covered. Add the remaining 4 tablespoons of oil to the frying pan, and add onions. Reduce heat to medium-high, and fry until they turn caramel brown, about 25 minutes. Careful not to burn them. Add garlic and ginger, and sauté a minute or two. Add cumin, tomatoes, and chiles, and continue sautéing until the tomato is cooked and the entire mixture is turned into a thick pulpy paste – maybe three minutes. Remove from flame, stir in yogurt. Cool mixture just long enough to puree it safely. I use a hand-held puree wand, but you can put it in a blender of food processor. Return puree to pot.

Next you’ll make a bouquet garni with a linen tea bag, a tea infuser, or cheesecloth. If using tea bag or infuser, lightly crush cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and bay leaves, then add to bag or infuser. If using cheese cloth, take a double layer about 6-inches square, add the lightly crushed spices, and bring the four corners up to make a little bag. Tie tightly with cotton twine. Add the spice bag/infuser to the vegetable puree in the pot. Also, add 4 cups of boiling water and the salt. Stir well. Add the browned meat, and simmer, covered, until the meat is tender. Depending on the meat, this can be from and hour to a little more than two hours.

When the meat is done, taste for salt. Remove the spice bag and squeeze it (cooled!) to get all the goodness out of it. Discard the bag. Add the cooked spinach and garam masala, and fold, gently. Return to a gentle heat for about five minutes. Let sit off the flame for ten minutes. Taste for salt. Add a little oil if it needs a little body, or you can stir in a few tablespoons of cream or sour cream.

This dish tastes better if made a few hours in advance, and allowed to rest at room temperature before being reheated and served. Refrigerate for two days or so, or freeze.
Defrost thoroughly before reheating. Serve with rice or naan.

Don’t Floss All Your Teeth!

dentalfloss_web
The first house I owned had a half bath tucked under an upstairs eve. On the mirror over the rust-stained sink was a sticker that read, “Don’t floss all your teeth, just the ones you want to keep.”

I want to keep all my teeth. I use them a lot, I like them, and I like what they do for me.

Is there an excuse these days not to glide the slick white thread between the teeth? Space-age polymers and the like mean there’s no getting stuck and shredding like back in the bad old days of dental hygiene. So, for my pearly whites, the answer is “no.”

Dental floss starts with D, and on day four of gratiblogging, I am appreciative of it.

(my brand, with space-age polymers)

(my brand, with space-age polymers)

Catlett: Home Is Not So Home II

Catlett's Station, around 1862

(Catlett’s Station, around 1862)

Catlett was a little village when I was born and raised in there in the 1960s. The kids all went to church together until age 6, when they started going to school together, too. Our elementary – grades one through four – was four classrooms and a long cooler in the hallway for three-cent lunch milk. The building was wooden, painted white, with huge tall windows that opened to the breeze, and with a huge bell swinging in the belfry.

My great-great-grandfather had moved to the village when it was called Catlett’s Station, and he put a general store right on the railroad in 1866. Just four years earlier Jeb Stuart and his men had raided John Pope’s supply lines there, during second Manassas.

My father, who was born in 1931, farmed the same land his great-grandfather and grandfather had farmed. His father ran the mercantile, then still spitting distance from the railroad tracks. When dad was a kid, the business sold everything there from caskets and crackers to moonshine.

My grandmother and I walked hot rolls and soup to the shut-ins. Two curious men, Chicken and Preacher Parsons, strolled together all day, never working, living their lives to mystify me generate conversation around Catlett’s 6-o’clock-sharp dinner tables. Every summer the community had a fireman’s parade and a July Fourth celebration with fireworks and a hamburger stand.

Catlett held all manner of entertainment to a small child: fishing and digging and playing with friends. And it was the most boring place on the earth to a 16-year-old.

Catlett is still on the map; you can drive through it to places with names we’d never heard back then – Fair Oaks Mall, Nissan Pavilion.

But Catlett is gone, too. And I am grateful to have been there.

Winterbrook Farm

Winterbrook Farm