Quick Dal Makhani

The September after a hurricane is a recovery — not from the storm, which barely touched us, but from the anxiety, which touched everyone. The library system is back to normal operations, the branches are open, and the patrons have returned with the particular gratitude of people who have been reminded that public institutions are not guaranteed. Irma destroyed libraries in Florida. The thought keeps me up at night — all those books, all those computers, all those community rooms where people came to read and learn and be. Gone. I work harder the day after the hurricane than the day before, because the day after is when the work matters most.

James is waiting for his early decision response. The College of Charleston typically announces in December, which means ten weeks of waiting, which is a specific kind of torture for a seventeen-year-old and a different kind of torture for his mother. I am pretending not to be anxious. James is pretending the same. We are a family of pretenders, all of us performing calm while the currents beneath are swift and cold.

Carrie has joined the school's Model United Nations team — representing Japan, naturally — and has begun researching Japanese foreign policy with the obsessive thoroughness she brings to everything. She came home Tuesday with a briefing paper she'd written that was seven pages long and cited fourteen sources. Her teacher told her it was "the most thorough country briefing I've received from a sophomore." Carrie reported this without pride but with satisfaction, which is different — pride is about how others see you, satisfaction is about how you see yourself.

I made okra soup this week — the fall version, using the last of the summer okra from the Johns Island farm stand. The soup is my way of marking the transition between seasons — a farewell to summer's abundance cooked into a pot that will warm the coming autumn. I added tomatoes and shrimp and a dark roux, and the soup came together the way the best soups do: slowly, then all at once, the flavors merging into something that is both its ingredients and more than its ingredients.

I wrote four new recipe cards this week: okra soup, shrimp bisque, buttermilk pie, and cornmeal-crusted catfish. The total is now sixty-one cards. I keep them in a wooden box on the kitchen counter, organized alphabetically (because I am a librarian), and I look at them sometimes — this growing archive of Mama's knowledge — and I think: this is the most important work I have ever done. More important than the library. More important than the marriage. This is the work of preservation, and preservation is what librarians were born for.

The okra soup I wrote about in that paragraph belongs to Mama’s box of cards, and it will stay there — it isn’t ready to share yet, not until I’ve written it down exactly right. But the impulse behind it, that need for something that cooks slowly and comes together all at once, led me the same week to this dal, which I’ve been making on and off for two years whenever the waiting gets to be too much. With James counting down weeks until December and all of us performing our calm, I needed a pot on the stove that required nothing of me except time — and dal makhani, patient and unhurried, was exactly that.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

1 cup whole black lentils (urad dal), rinsed and soaked 30 minutes if time allows
1/2 cup canned red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
3 cups water
1 cup canned crushed tomatoes
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or canola)
1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon garam masala
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or to taste)
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 cup heavy cream
Fresh cilantro and warm flatbread or rice, for serving

Instructions

Cook the lentils. Combine the rinsed black lentils and 3 cups water in a medium saucepan over high heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a steady simmer. Cook uncovered for 25–30 minutes, until the lentils are just tender but not falling apart. Drain and set aside, reserving 1/2 cup cooking liquid.
Build the base. In a large, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, heat the oil and 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat. Add the cumin seeds and let them sizzle for 30 seconds until fragrant. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until deep golden and soft.
Add aromatics. Stir in the garlic and ginger and cook for 2 minutes, until the raw smell mellows. Add the ground coriander, smoked paprika, and cayenne, stirring to coat the onion mixture. Cook 1 minute more.
Simmer the dal. Pour in the crushed tomatoes and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes until the tomatoes darken slightly and the oil begins to separate at the edges of the pot. Add the cooked lentils, kidney beans, reserved cooking liquid, and salt. Stir everything together, reduce heat to low, and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the dal thickens and the flavors merge.
Finish and serve. Stir in the heavy cream, the remaining tablespoon of butter, and the garam masala. Taste and adjust salt. Let the dal rest off heat for 5 minutes — it will continue to thicken. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro. Serve with warm naan, roti, or steamed basmati rice.

Nutrition (per serving)

Quick Dal Makhani — A Slow, Warming Simmer for Uncertain Seasons