Simple Lentil Soup

I was going to make lentil soup. I want you to know that. I want you to know that on Wednesday, September 14, 2016, I had a plan. I had dried lentils in a bag on my desk and half an onion in the mini fridge and I was going to make soup after my 2 PM lecture because it was getting cooler and soup felt right and I had a plan. I had lentils. I was a person who was going to make soup.

My phone rang at 2:17. I was in the lecture hall, third row, taking notes on assessment accommodations. Mrs. Papalardo. I almost didn't answer because I was in class and I'm the kind of person who doesn't answer phones in class, except I did answer, because it was Jess's mom and Jess's mom doesn't call me, Jess calls me, and the fact that it was her mother and not her was already the answer to a question I hadn't asked yet.

Jess overdosed. Fentanyl-laced heroin. A gas station bathroom in Evergreen Park. She was twenty-one years old.

I walked out of the lecture hall. I don't remember walking. I remember being outside, on a bench near the science building, and I remember the sound that came out of me, which was not crying. It was screaming. A campus security guard came over. I couldn't explain. I couldn't form the sentence. How do you say: my best friend since I was five just died on the floor of a gas station bathroom? How do you say that in words that make sense when nothing makes sense, when the whole world has just tilted off its axis and the sky is still blue and people are still walking to class and the lentils are still on my desk?

I don't remember the rest of Wednesday. I don't remember Thursday. Katie told me later I didn't move from my bed for two days. She brought me water. I don't remember drinking it. I remember calling Mom at some point and hearing her voice crack, which is a sound Patty Kowalczyk does not make, and knowing that if Mom's voice was cracking then this was real, this had happened, Jess was gone.

The lentils are still on my desk. The onion is still in the fridge. I haven't cooked. I haven't eaten. I am writing this because I don't know what else to do with my hands. Jess is dead. She was my best friend for sixteen years and she died alone in a bathroom and I was sixty-three miles away taking notes on assessment accommodations. I had lentils. I had a plan. I don't have a plan anymore.

I finally made the lentil soup three weeks later, on a Sunday afternoon when Katie sat with me in the kitchen and didn’t say much, which was exactly right. I don’t know why that bag of lentils felt like something I owed Jess—maybe because she was the one who always said I needed to actually cook the things I bought instead of letting them fossilize on my desk. It didn’t fix anything, and I didn’t expect it to, but my hands had something to do and the apartment smelled warm for a few hours. Here’s how I made it.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4 to 6

Ingredients

1 cup dried green or brown lentils, rinsed and picked over
1/2 large yellow onion, diced (about 1 cup)
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 medium carrots, peeled and diced
2 celery stalks, diced
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, with juices
4 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
2 cups water
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 to 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, to finish
Fresh parsley, chopped, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Sauté the aromatics. Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion, carrots, and celery. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 6 to 8 minutes until the onion is soft and translucent. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
Bloom the spices. Add the cumin, smoked paprika, and turmeric directly to the pot. Stir to coat the vegetables and cook for 30 seconds until the spices are fragrant.
Add the lentils and liquid. Pour in the rinsed lentils, diced tomatoes with their juices, broth, and water. Stir to combine. Add the salt and pepper.
Simmer until tender. Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 25 to 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the lentils are completely tender and beginning to break down.
Adjust and finish. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Stir in the lemon juice. If the soup is thicker than you’d like, add water a little at a time until it reaches your preferred consistency. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh parsley if using.

Nutrition (per serving)

Simple Lentil Soup — The Recipe I Had a Plan to Make on September 14, 2016