When I met my husband I learned that, for many Indian families, lentils are a way of life. They smash them and mash them; they boil them and blast them. They even grind them and roll them into crepes! But cardboard turkeys not-withstanding, my experience with lentils has been, shall we say, rocky.
Recently, while trying to prepare a quick vegetable stew for dinner, I discovered that not all lentils are created equal.
Carrots-check; Celery-check; Lentils-check. After adding the ingredients, I popped the lid on the pot and simmered the stew for the required 45 minutes. Then I served it up to my hungry hubby, waiting for that look of ecstasy that often overtakes him when eating a delicious meal.
Instead I saw a look of pure horror.
It was a look I had seen before; It's the one where he is weighing whether he should tell me the god-awful truth about my food.......or just grin and bear it.
With trepidation, I raised the spoon to my mouth, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong. After all, I had made this stew a half dozen times to rave reviews. With the first bite, I instantly knew there was something different about this stew.
The second bite almost cracked one of my fillings.
Like a lion protecting its young from a herd of charging elephants, I snatched my startled husband's bowl from him mid-bite.
“I think the lentils are just a little undercooked,” I explained as I dumped the contents of our bowls back into the pot. “I’m gonna cook them for about 10 minutes longer.”
Three hours (and a trip to Taco Bell) later, the stew was done. And so was my husband, who had fallen asleep on the couch an hour earlier. So much for quick-cooking stews!
Somewhere during this debacle it occurred to me to check the package of the lentils I had used. And therein I discovered my mistake: Instead of using the red lentils the recipe calls for, I had grabbed a package of yellow split peas!
I turned to my facebook friends yet again and found out that yellow split peas require soaking overnight and take several hours to cook. One friend joked that I should use my pressure cooker (and if you don’t understand why she was joking, see my April 15 post “Under Pressure”).
My facebook status garnered 16 comments and some great advice. But when I tried to serve the stew to my hubby the next night, he balked.
“I can’t eat something that has been so thoroughly dissected by our friends on facebook,” he protested. “Let’s go out instead.”
Fortunately, all was not lost. Last night my husband’s cousin Sudhanwa came over and insisted I serve the much-maligned lentil stew for dinner. He brilliantly suggested that I give the stew a face-lift by garnishing it with chopped sweet onion, cilantro and slivers of chile-lime almonds.
If my hubby knew it was the original stew from Tuesday night, he wisely chose to keep his pie-hole zipped. (And I think I even caught a glimmer of that ecstasy I had been hoping for!)
1 medium carrot, chopped
1 small onion, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
1 tsp minced fresh gingerroot
1-2 serrano chilies, minced (optional)
1 garlic clove, finely minced
1 TBSP olive oil
1/4 cup dried red lentils, rinsed and sorted
1/4 cup pearl barley
1 can (15 oz) diced tomatoes
1 can (15 oz) vegetable broth
1/2 tsp seasoning Italian seasoning (or curry powder if you want Indian flavors)
1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped
additional water as needed while cooking
- In a large saucepan, saute the carrot, onion and celery in oil until crisp-tender. Add ginger, garlic and chile and cook 2 minutes longer. Add lentils and barley; cook for 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.
- Stir in the tomatoes, broth and seasonings. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 40-45 minutes or until lentils and barley are tender. Add more water as it cooks if you like your stew more soupy. Add basil, if desired, the last few minutes of cooking. Add salt and pepper to taste.
