Some people judge the credibility of a Mediterranean restaurant by its falafel. Others decide its merits based on the hummus. Personally, I decide whether or not its worth a revisit after trying the soup.
Lentil soup, Turkish lentil soup, red lentil soup; whatever subtle variant it goes by on the menu, it should be relatively the same thing: a hot stew redolent of cumin and coriander, onions and garlic, made from red lentils stewed so hard that they simply give up on their corporeal form. There’s no blending needed to create the moderately thick, naturally creamy texture. Hopefully, a small wedge of lemon will come on the side for that final punch of acid, if the kitchen really knows what they’re doing.
Does anyone else order it? Rarely does it seem to grace the tables, other than my own. I don’t care if its made weeks or days or even months in advance, preserved in an icy tomb of a freezer, so long as it comes out steaming and comforting as ever. Yes, it’s simple, as the most difficult dishes are. There’s nowhere to hide mistakes.
I crave it terribly, all year round, despite the equally terrible heat bearing down most of the year. Typically it’s worth the pain (and sweat), but there’s no need to suffer. I’ve recently started taking the matter into my own hands, translating those essential elements into a chilled salad format. Best of all, this rendition cuts the cooking time down into almost nothing, since red lentils soften at the drop of a hat. In fact, that becomes the biggest challenge when you flip the script; instead of simmering them into nothingness, it takes greater finesse to cook them so lightly, that they remain intact.
Sure, I’ll fancy it up a bit with more substantial, forkable vegetables, like a genuine bean salad should be, while staying true to its roots. In the winter, it would be wonderful to take those same tomatoes, bell peppers, and swap in diced carrots, roast them, and serve the whole thing warm instead. That’s an idea to file away for now, as the heat rages on. These days, it’s an absolute delight tucked inside tender pita bread, wrapped up in lavash, or simply served in a generous bowl, always thoroughly chilled.
Yes, soup season is eternal, but so is salad season. There’s no reason why we can’t have both.
Continue reading “Lentils, Through a Different Lens”
