Hearth and Ho-me

When I was in 8th grade, our fiercely challenging, academically stringent, hard-knocks Catholic school sponsored a week-long class ski trip in the middle of the school year. Reach for those accredited stars, Sacred Heart School. Anyway, we sold overpriced wrapping paper to pay for it – the kind where the company would award the top seller with White Sox tickets. Laura Bales would always kick ass because her dad would take the order form to work and have all his coworkers go bananas on it. My dad worked by himself. And I was a shit salesperson. Still am. I so take no for an answer.

But I never won the tickets. Whatever, screw the Sox.

Anyway, while on the trip in Eagle River, Wis., my dear friend-to-this-day, Meghann Mundy, and I noticed a gourmet food shop near the ski lodge advertising homemade fudge. Only the sign outside didn’t say “homemade fudge,” it said “ho-made fudge.” I remember standing there in the parking lot, wearing our skis (don’t ask), just roaring laughing. Ho-made it said! Man, I nearly laughed my braces off. The best part about it was the sign was one of those cheap plastic tent-shaped numbers that the letters just slid into from the side. There was more than enough space on the board to allow for that extra character they decided to forgo at the expense of properly spelling “homemade.” Our guess was that they ran out of Ms.

This is one serious segue because this recipe has nothing to do with fudge. I love me some fudge, but I’m not a big baker. I will come down on a dessert, but frankly nowadays I’d rather have a glass of wine. So yeah, recipe… let’s see here. What do I want to talk about … Oooh, lentil soup. But not just any lentil soup, ho-made lentil soup.

Eh? Eh? You following me now?

<cough> Anyway.

I made this recently after going to the grocery store and realizing how weak the canned soup selection was. Greg had asked me to look for lentil and the closest I found was “chunky hamburger barley” with roughly ∞ sodium. Yes, that’s the infinity symbol. It had that many sodium. So I said “F this” (yes, it was aloud) and decided to just make it. So I grabbed a few cheap ingredients, some wine (one for the soup, two for me) and flipped the soup aisle the bird. This is really easy to make, healthy and freezes like a champ. Sure it’s not the best weather for soup right now, but let’s not kid ourselves: We still have cold weather left in store. Crap.

Kerry’s Ho-Made Lentil Soup:

2 cups dried lentils, rinsed

about 8 cups chicken stock (I use ho-made stock – that’ll be another blog)

1 cup chopped onion

1 cup chopped celery

1 cup chopped carrot

1 cup chopped new potato

1 cup of whatever other root veg you like – parsnips, rutabaga, turnip – anything else equally maligned (all above veg should be chopped small and approx. the same size)

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 cup each, red wine, white wine

1 28 oz can crushed tomatoes

splash balsamic vinegar

sprig of fresh thyme

1 three-inch piece of parmesan cheese rind (very optional but really good)

some olive oil, salt and pepper

In a big ol’ pot with a lid, heat a couple tablespoons olive oil over medium heat. Add onion, carrots and celery and sauté for a few minutes until they get all sweaty. Don’t brown them. About a minute after you add the veg, add the garlic and stir for about a minute. Add the potatoes and whatever other veg you got and stir them around to get them coated with the oil and steaming for a minute. Add some salt and pepper – about a teaspoon each. When the veg start to stick to the bottom of the pan, add the cup of white wine to loosen all that crap up. Wait a minute for it to evaporate. Keep a-stirrin’, dude.

Dump rinsed lentils in, give them a stir and then add the stock. Stir a second more. Wait for it to come up to a low boil, and then reduce the heat to low to med-low and simmer, covered, for about 15 to 20 minutes. Drink wine.

By this time, it will start smelling really good. But wait, there’s more. Add the canned tomatoes, red wine, thyme and cheese rind, if you have one. Simmer, uncovered this time, for another 15 or 20 minutes. At this point it’s done, but it’ll be up to you if it’s the right flavor and consistency. Going a little longer will thicken the soup and intensify the flavor.

So if you’re done and if you have a blender, immersion blender or food processor, turn off the flame, ditch the thyme and rind and transfer about a ¼ of the soup into whatever machine you’re using. Blend that sucker up and add it back to the pot. If you don’t have any of that stuff, take a potato masher to it for a little bit. Anyway, stir with the splash of balsamic and put the heat on super low to keep it warm. Taste for salt and pepper – it’ll probably need more. Serve that B with grated parmesan cheese and, well, more wine.

Oh, and apologies to my mom for grossing her out with the last post’s mention of perverse hanky panky. Sorry, Ma.

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Kerry Leonard
Kerry, when not eating, talking about eating, thinking about eating or watching eating-related television programs, is writing about eating. She is a Chicagoan, journalism graduate student and all around bon vivant. Kickball, laughing loudly, doting on her niece and nephews, listening to hip-hop, riding her crappy old bike and drumming up excuses not to go to the gym round out her hobbies. She lives in Ukrainian Village with her boyfriend, Greg, and his dog, Gypsy. More