Bread and Wine: Robin's Super Healthy Lentil Soup

Um, so, heeey everyone!

In my last blog (in November) I had said that I didn't want this blog to fizzle. Of course I did, because I'm a responsible person and I don't want to look like an irresponsible person who can't F I N I S H something. Huh-huh, not this girl!

Well as life would have it, mothering through the holidays and trying to cook, photograph and blog intentionally was more than my little ship could handle. My writing capsized, well, I should say mostly just this blog capsized (I have a journal full of written musings) and I began doubting I could finish this blog project.

Enter Hope*Writers, a neat online community of faith writers I joined for my birthday last year, and they threw an online writing challenge this month that was open to everyone. It involved 12 days of posting on IG about an assigned word. I'm honestly not sure why I jumped on it, but I did, and it was a good Something to remind me that setting goals, however small, is good thing and I Can Do It. (I've been reading a lot of classic Winnie the Pooh to my daughter lately so I mentally capitalize a Lot of Things right now. It's not academic, but I love how it captures such spirit and intention).

After that I decided enough was enough, it is time for me to complete this blog. I can cook, I can write, I can photograph, and I can do it intentionally. My goal is to complete my cooking, photography and blogging through this book in 2 weeks-- 14 recipes to conclude, to be exact. I realize that, unfortunately, this may mean that everything will not be done Perfectly, Correctly, and Up to Some People's Standards, but for me, I need to free my self to 1) celebrate the completion of a Long Borne Writing Projects, and 2) feel freed to take on more independent writing projects.

So, here we are. Lentil Soup is up next. It is a good  recipe for the New Year and a fresh start.

The Recipe: Robin's Super-Healthy Lentil Soup
Ingredients: extra-virgin olive oil, onions, celery stalks, carrots, garlic, chicken or vegetable broth, lentils, canned tomatoes, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper.

Lentil soup comes with a lot of baggage for me. My wonderful mother loved it when I was growing up (it was Nutritious! Cheap! Easy To Fix!) and hoped to convert my brother and I. Unfortunately I couldn't get over the mealy texture (and I was only allowed so many little cut up hot dogs to flavor it), so I grew up carrying the Dark Secret that I Didn't Like Lentils.

And THEN. THIS recipe.

I came to make this recipe when my family and I were traveling in England last fall. We adored the part of Cambridge we were in, but by day five or so we were weary with jet lag and hauling around two very tired toddlers. Eating out was fun for my husband and I (the pubs! The pubs! The pubs!) but not so much for said les enfants. So one dark, cold weary night when we were all feeling more than a little tired, unmoored and disoriented,  I had decided it-- I would make us some soup. This one. It was a gamble, but I sensed it was what we needed.

The market around the corner from us only carried canned lentils, but they worked just fine. I grated the carrots because that's just about the only way I cook them in things anymore (waaay easier to eat for the kids and usually slip past any nutritionally suspecting diners). I left out the celery because I'm not a fan of it.

When I first put it together I was disappointed by the plainness; it seemed to be just another nondescript vegetable soup. I revisited Shauna's instructions and I poured in a generous extra swirl of olive oil and vinegar. Oh gosh, perfect. And crave-worthy. I served it over brown rice, with bread and butter, slices of sharp cheddar cheese, and some crisp apples on the side.

It was one of those coming home meals. My husband, who normally shies from vegetable soups, smiled and relaxed over its savory bite. The kids--the KIDS--ate seconds. Mission accomplished, my troubled past with lentils was redeemed.

I've made this one more time since then and I wasn't as happy with it--I'm afraid I'll have to stick to leaving out the celery, otherwise it seems too generic to me. I also left out the vinegar and I missed it. So the moral of the story  is this: Add vinegar, oil, salt and pepper until you have a bit of a bite coming through. If you like bland or plainer soups, of course ignore me, but for something that feels a bit more dressed up, try that. I think you'll have a new favorite on your hands.

The Chapter: "Feasting and Fasting"
The recipe follows Shauna's meditation on finding balance in her eating-- some seasons refraining from indulgence; in others, eating up every morsel.  This soup, she says, is a good way to find some balance after a full season of indulgence!

I love this, and I wish this message could be broadcasted from every food-related media possible. Seasons. Patterns. A time for this, and a time for that. Moderation. These aren't really sexy concepts, or faddish foodie ideas, but they're elemental and good.

I always feel weird and kind of suffocated when people tell me about their new diet or exercise regime. I mean, good for them and all, but the rigidity that often comes with such resolutions seem inhuman, seemingly not allowing for time and seasons and even occasions for certain foods or activities.

 Instead, a righteous message of "never will I ever" is played until (almost predictably) the person fails in some way. This "failure" or "slip" is deemed so negatively that only a stronger resolve, a greater show of resolve seems to redeem it, until the person cycles in and out these stages to the point of exhaustion...and giving up.

Our bodies (and hearts) were not created to be the same always at every time and season, and the shame associated with the fact we are not really needs to move along. In some seasons there is the busy, the indulgence, the fullness (the holidays!); And in others the rest, the restraint, the lightness (January). This is a kindness and grace we can give ourselves and our bodies--to be what they are and need to be in different seasons. And perhaps, when we feel a little tired and unmoored, a little unsure of what that means or where we are, a warm, steaming, comforting bowl of soup might indeed help us find center again.