Lentil and Goat Cheese Stuffed Sweet Potatoes

Election week. I am not going to write about politics because I write about food and family and the things that keep us alive, and politics does none of those things. I will say this: I voted on Tuesday before work, at the community center two blocks from the townhouse, and I brought Marcus and Jasmine with me because Mama brought me to the polls when I was their age and told me, "People died so you could stand in this line. Don't you ever forget it." Marcus asked who I voted for. I said, "I voted for the future I want for you." He said, "That's not an answer." I said, "It's the best one I have."

The rest of the week was strange. The air at school was heavy — kids picking up on their parents' emotions the way dogs pick up on storms. Half my caseload came in with stomachaches that weren't really stomachaches. I did what I always do: I listened. I didn't fix. I held space. I handed out crackers because sometimes a cracker is more therapeutic than a conversation.

Mama's spirits were up this week. She called me Wednesday morning — early, six-thirty, which is vintage Brenda — and said she wanted to do Thanksgiving. The whole thing. At the Cascade Heights house. I said, "Mama, are you sure?" She said, "I'm sure. I might not cook all of it, but I want it in my kitchen. I want the table set. I want my family around my table." The way she said it — "my table" — made my chest hurt. She's planning like a woman who knows something she hasn't told anyone yet.

I said yes. Of course I said yes. What else can you say when your mother, who is fighting cancer with the same stubbornness she uses to fight everyone, tells you she wants Thanksgiving in her kitchen? You say yes and you start planning and you don't cry until you're alone in your car.

Set the Table class seven: chili. A good starter for cold-weather cooking. One pot, ground turkey, beans, tomatoes, the girls taking turns stirring. Monique brought her own apron this week — a real one, not Dollar Tree, something she bought at a thrift store with her own money. It was too big and she'd folded it over twice and safety-pinned it and she looked like a kid playing dress-up and she looked like a chef and she looked like every girl who has ever decided that something matters enough to invest in. I didn't make a big deal about it. I just said, "Nice apron." She said, "Thanks." That was enough.

Made chili at home too — different recipe, mine, not the simple one I taught the girls. My chili has three kinds of peppers, dark beer, and a square of dark chocolate that melts into the broth and gives it a depth that you can't identify but you can feel. Curtis came for Saturday dinner and had two bowls and said, "What's in this?" I said, "Love and chocolate." He said, "The chocolate I can taste. The love is debatable." Then he winked. Curtis Jackson winked at me. Mark the calendar.

The chili I taught the girls in Set the Table and the chili I made for Curtis both lived in my mind all week — two versions of the same impulse, which is that when the air is heavy and people are carrying things they can’t name, you make something warm and you let it do what it can. This stuffed sweet potato recipe is another one in that category for me: earthy lentils cooked down until they’re soft and savory, roasted sweet potato that gives just enough, and goat cheese on top that does something unexpected — the way the dark chocolate does in my chili, the way Mama’s voice did on Wednesday morning when she said “my table.” You can’t always name what the right ingredient adds. You can only feel it.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 medium sweet potatoes
1 cup green or brown lentils, rinsed and picked over
2 1/2 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
4 oz goat cheese, crumbled
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped

Instructions

Roast the sweet potatoes. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Scrub the sweet potatoes, pat dry, and pierce each one several times with a fork. Place directly on the oven rack or on a foil-lined baking sheet and roast 45–50 minutes, until a knife slides in without resistance and the skins have started to wrinkle at the edges. Remove and let cool just enough to handle.
Cook the lentils. While the potatoes roast, combine the lentils and vegetable broth in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a gentle simmer. Cook uncovered 20–25 minutes, until lentils are tender but still holding their shape. Drain any remaining liquid and set aside.
Build the filling. Heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until soft and translucent. Add the garlic, cumin, smoked paprika, and cayenne and cook 1 minute more, stirring constantly, until fragrant.
Combine. Add the drained lentils to the skillet and stir to coat evenly with the spiced onion mixture. Pour in the lemon juice and season with salt and black pepper to taste. Cook 2 minutes to let the flavors come together, then remove from heat.
Stuff and finish. Slice each sweet potato open lengthwise and press the ends gently to open it up. Lightly fluff the interior flesh with a fork. Spoon the lentil filling generously into each potato. Top with crumbled goat cheese and a scattering of fresh parsley. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lentil and Goat Cheese Stuffed Sweet Potatoes — What I Cook When the World Needs Steadying