"Temple Days" after Thanksgiving: curried Lentil soup

Ciao ragazzi. Guess who's back, sort of like a recurring infection? Yes, it is I, after a respite of several weeks. Much has happened, much of which I cannot speak of in this blog, at least not yet. Suffice it to say that , to quote Peter Allen (which I do not do enough of), there have been some "interesting changes in my life" as of late. They have taken up much time, and kept me from updating this blog. Thanksgiving is, of course, one of them. So, too, was Annalena's very first road "race." Yours truly laced up her shoes and ran a four mile race for one of the charities dear to her heart, "God's Love We Deliver." If you have some spare change, send it to them. If Annalena can run four miles for them, surely you can cough up a double sawbuck. Get to it!
Then, get to this "temple days" dish. Regular readers of this blog will know that I have stolen ruthlessly from Nigella Lawson with this title. "Temple Days" are for those days after wanton disregard of dietary principles, when everything must calm down again for a while with simpler, nourishing, healthier food. This soup fills the bill, and it's also quite inexpensive, and vegan.
All of this is good, because Annalena's next two blogs will easily qualify for reckless excess, involving, in one, half a pound of butter, and in the other mountains of pork.
But, first, let's rest a bit. Lentils. 'Fess up, you hate em. You ate them when you had to, but you remember far too many bowls of thick, pasty, brown, lentil soup.
I'm there with you. I sympathize, deeply. It took years for Annalena to escape from the memories of lentil soup of her childhood, which she had to eat frequently. For years, she believed that those brown ones ("lens culinaris," as they call them, and if you want to sound exceptionally intelligent) were the only ones out there, and she was resigned to them.
Then came Indian food. And dhals. With red lentils, and tiny yellow split peas which, strictly, aren't lentils, but are awfully close. Then the French green ones, and most surprising of all, brown ones, from Catellucio Italy, cooked beautifully. No more memories of thick soups that you could cut with a knife, or over baked, dry, "politcally correct" lentil loaves (we'll talk about politically correct food in a post to come). I do not cook lentils as often as I should, but after this dish, I may be inspired to do more with them.
It is difficult to ascribe a provenance to the dish. "Curry," of course, makes it sound Indian. It is not, since we're using French lentils in it. Originally, it called for olive oil which, as far as I know, is not known in Indian cooking. Originally, it called for chickpeas, which could put it anywhere. So, let's just call it "the best of all possible worlds." It, like the recipe to come, will be very useful when you go to that vegetarian pot luck or you just need a vegetarian dish. Let's cook.

Let's chop one onion, a couple of carrots, and a couple of stalks of celery. Try to get them as even as possible, i.e, all of the pieces of the vegetables should be the same size. Also chop up a clove or two of garlic, and have some curry powder ready.

Let's chat a minute about curry powders. First, if you have some on your shelf, but you don't remember when you used it last, throw it out. Go to a store that specializes in spices, and get a small quantity of one of the ones they sell. Ask. Curries come in various strengths and flavors. There are "sweet" curries, there are "hot" ones. There are curries designed for fish, for vegetables, for legumes, and so forth. Smell. This will be your best guide. You will need about two tablespoons (yup, tablespoons) of an average strength curry. If you have a strong one, as I did, you will need less. A milder one? You will want more. You can doctor this as you go along, so don't worry too much.

Heat up a tablespoon of vegetable oil in a heavy pot that will hold 2-3 quarts of stuff. When it's hot, add the vegetables, and sprinkle them with salt, and some pepper. Cook them for about three minutes, then add the garlic, and cook for another minute, and then the two tablespoons of curry.

The curry will pick up all of the oil, and you may think you've made a mistake. You haven't. Things will get sticky, and the curry will fry with the vegetables. Y ou want this. After a minute, add a quart of water, and a cup of French green lentils. Bring the pot to a boil, and when it comes to the boil, lower the heat, and simmer for about 30-40 minutes. I covered the pot, leaving a small area for "venting."

While this is cooking away, get a can (that's right, Annalena said "can") of beans of some kind. Chickpeas are standard. I did not have them, so I used favas. Drain the beans and wash them, and if you have a blender, put them in that with two chopped cloves of garlic, a quarter cup of water, 2 tablespoons of oil, and the juice of half a lemon. Puree this. If it gets too thick and gums up (it probably will), add some more water until it loosens up and you have a thick, but loose, puree. Pour this into the soup, and stir it all up, after the lentils have cooked for that 40 minutes or so. Taste. Adjust your seasonings, and add more curry, more salt, more pepper, whatever you like.

And you are done. This is a very tasty, very unusual soup which, as you can see, is not that expensive to make, not that rich, and overall, very good for you. Play with the vegetables, play with the curry, play with the bean variety, and make your own delicious soup. It will be good. I promise.