Red Lentil and Tomato Soup

This soup has been haunting me for two years.  It's one of my absolute favorites and I think I have made and photographed it at least three times in an attempt to share it with you.  Not a single photograph has ever been worthy of posting.  Seriously.  Not.  One.  Ever.

Until today.  {Insert me jumping up and down clapping in glee here!}  I've come to the conclusion that my photography woes with regards to this soup have been due to three factors.  First, it's taken me forever to really feel comfortable with my camera skills, capturing the light in an attractive way and food styling abilities.  I think I may be at the point where I've gotten the hang of it. Or maybe I just got lucky on this one.  For today, at least, I'm not going to question it because it means I finally have some decent photos to share with you.

Second, I don't often plan what recipes I'm going to make and when I'm going to make them.  That sort of leaves me at the mercy of whatever lighting I have on the day I decide to whip up a batch of something new.  In the case of this soup I seem to only make it on rainy and cloudy days when I can't squeeze out enough light to make even the prettiest cake or cookie look edible, let alone a humble soup.  But really the biggest problem I've been having is that fact that, let's face it, the soup is not the most attractive color.  Some things are just really hard to make look enticing in a photo and the mustard-like color of the lentils just is not very photogenic. 

But by golly, I think I've finally managed to make it look like it's something you might want to eat.  And thank goodness because it really is an awesome soup.  Thank you pretty German morning light from my big back windows.  Thank you Anthropologie for the sweet little napkin that makes all of my food look awesome against it and IKEA for the rolling kitchen cart that helps me find just the right spot to take my pictures.  And thanks to you- my faithful readers- for having the patience and fortitude to stick it out with me through the oddly colored and poorly focused photos of my past with the hope that I may just find my stride and finally deliver on a soup that took me two years to get right.

Red Lentil and Tomato Soup
Makes 4-6 servings of soup. Slightly finessed from Fine Cooking.
For the printable recipe, click here.

This soup is pretty darn perfect for my family's taste, but it is infinitely adaptable.  My husband, ever the carnivore, likes a bit of shredded chicken or turkey stirred into his bowl.  The greens add a really nice slightly bitter note to the soup, but are certainly not necessary and the soup is quite good without them.  If you choose to use them, you can throw in whatever you have in your fridge.  I've used kale, spinach, swiss chard and even bok choy with equal success.  And you can go totally vegetarian (even vegan!) by using vegetable stock as your liquid.  The possibilities here are endless.  The real key is the red lentils, which I would not substitute with any other sort of lentil as they cook differently.  You can find them in many grocery stores these days so seek them out near the rest of the dry legumes and grains in your local store.

1 medium onion, chopped finely
1 large carrot, peeled and diced
1 stalk celery, diced
1 tsp curry powder or garaham masala
1 tsp dried cumin
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1 pinch cayenne pepper (to taste)
a generous pinch of sea or kosher salt
1 14 oz. can diced tomatoes in the juices (fire roasted are my favorite to use in this soup)
4 cups home made or low sodium chicken stock (to go vegetarian, use vegetable stock)
1 cup dried red lentils
2 tbs chopped sun dried or slow roasted tomatoes
1 heaping cup chopped bitter greens such as kale, swiss chard, or mustard greens

Heat 2 tbs olive oil in a large saucepan (3 qt) over medium heat.  Add the onions and cook, stirring, until they have softened and become translucent (about 5 minutes).  Add the carrots, celery, curry powder, cumin and smoked paprika and stir for about 1 minute or until the spices toast and become very fragrant.  Add the salt, stock, tomatoes and their juices, and lentils to the pot.  Stir continuously until the soup comes to a boil so that the lentils do not stick and form clumps.  Once the soup reaches a boil, turn the heat down to medium low and simmer uncovered for about 45 minutes or until the carrots and lentils have softened.  Add the sun dried tomatoes and greens and cook for another 4-5 minutes to soften the greens.  Taste for seasoning and add salt as needed.  Serve immediately.

The soup will keep for several days in the refrigerator, though the lentils will soak up much of the liquid.  Simply add a bit or water or stock when you reheat it.  You can also freeze the soup for up to three months.

Tomato and Cheese Galette {A Tuesdays with Dorie Post}

As I sit here trying to organize my thoughts this evening, I am eating a bowl of my Mom's homemade chicken and orzo soup still buzzing with excitement from a fun night out.  I was invited to the Friends and Family preview evening for the newest Whole Foods to open up in the area.  That's a post for a different time, but let's just say that I found myself giddy to be standing in a grocery store being poured a local pinot noir at a bar built into an Airstream.  It was really fun (and the pinot was excellent!).

The sight of all of the signs pointing out the locally produced (and hyper locally as well- that means within a 5 mile radius of the store) fruits and veggies, wine, cheese, granola and other spectacular looking foods was wonderful to see, but it did make me a bit sad.  Sad that in just a few short weeks, I'll be leaving it all behind.  That's not to say that I am not in anyway looking forward to the adventures in my near future.  I fancy myself riding my bike to the local butcher, dairy farmer and Saturday market and filling up my wicker basket with all I need for the week's meals.  But I will definitely be missing my garden and the fabulous produce that we have such easy access to here in Southern California.

Most of all, I will miss the tomatoes.  I planted a full garden's worth earlier in the spring knowing that I wouldn't likely be around to enjoy the fruits of my labor.  But I couldn't bear to see the garden's brown earth remain barren where in the summers past they had been covered in cucumber vines, herbs and stakes tied with branches holding up the most beautiful of tomatoes.  The first of this years crop are just beginning to find their way into the light.  The cherry tomatoes are hanging on the vines, small and still green, but with the promise of something much more. I was hoping to have a tomato ready to eat before I moved, but I guess that's just not in the cards.

I can imagine the dark red heirloom Riesentraube tomatoes- growing right next to a patch of basil- would have been just perfect in this sweet little tart.  It's a savory tart, almost like a fancy pizza, with a crisp and flaky crust.  I'm so glad I found it.  Perhaps one day soon, in the warmth of a late European summer afternoon I might pull another out of my new (and tiny) German oven.  For now, I'll have to be happy with making the best of the few early tomatoes I can find in my own SoCal Saturday market instead.  Sad to be leaving but happy to have been here to experience it in the meantime.

Tomato and Cheese Galette
Makes 1 8-inch galette.  Adapted, only slightly, from Baking with Julia by Dorie Greenspan.
For the printable recipe, click here.

This is a Tuesdays with Dorie post, so there are plenty of other pretty pies to check out on the official page.  I decided to vary the cheese selection a bit, thinking that fontina would make a better partner for the mozzarella that the monterrey jack that was called for in the original.  I was pleased with the result and my boys enjoyed nibbling on the extra pieces of fontina as the galette baked.  That's a win-win in my book.  Oh, and the crust is to die for.  Just saying.

1 recipe of galette dough (recipe follows)

1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup shredded fontina cheese
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, cut into chiffonade (finely shredded) or torn
2 to 3 ripe plum tomatoes or 1 1/2 cups grape or cherry tomatoes, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices
3 tbs grated parmesean cheese

Preheat the oven to 400° and position a rack in the lower third of the oven. Prepare a baking sheet by lining it with parchment paper.

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the dough into an 11-inch circle that’s about 1/8 inch thick. The dough is quite soft so make sure to lift it now and then and toss some flour under it and on the top to prevent it from sticking everywhere. When you’ve accomplished the above dimensions, move it to your prepared pan. The best and easiest way to move this dough is to roll it up around your rolling pin and then unroll it onto the prepared baking sheet.

In a bowl, toss the mozzarella and fontina cheeses and basil together and then sprinkle it over the rolled out dough, leaving a 2-3 inch border. On top of the cheese, place the tomatoes in concentric circles, again leaving the couple inch border. Fold the uncovered border dough up over the filling, allowing the dough to naturally pleat as you work your way around the galette.  Sprinkle the parmesean cheese around the fluted edges of the crust.

Bake the galette for 35-40 minutes, or until the pastry is golden and crisp and the cheese is bubbly. When it’s done, allow the galette rest on the sheet for 10 minutes. Cut apart with a knife or pizza wheel and serve.

Galette Dough:

1 1/2 tbs buttermilk
2 1/2 tbs (approx.) ice water
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 tbs cup yellow cornmeal
1/2 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
 3 1/2 tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into 4-5 pieces

By Hand:
Stir the buttermilk and ice water together in a small bowl and set aside. Then, in a large bowl, combine the flour, cornmeal, sugar and salt and stir with a fork to mix. Drop in the butter chunks and toss them a round a bit to coat them with the flour mixture. Using a pastry blender, work the butter into the flour, working for butter pieces that range in size from bread crumbs to small peas.

Add the cold water/sour cream mixture into the dough 1 tablespoon at a time, stirring with a fork after each addition to evenly distribute the liquid. When all the mixture has been added, the dough should be moist enough to stick together when it’s pressed; if it’s not, add in more cold water, 1 teaspoon at a time. Use your hands to gather the dough together.

When you’ve gathered it together into a cohesive ball, press the dough into a disk shape, wrap in plastic and chill for at least 2 hours.

In a Food Processor:
Stir the buttermilk and ice water together in a small bowl; set aside. Put the flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt in the work of a processor fitted with the metal blade; pulse to combine. Drop the butter pieces into the bowl and pulse 8 to 10 times or until the mixture is speckled with pieces of butter that vary in size from bread crumbs to peas. With the machine running, add the buttermilk mixture and process just until the dough forms soft, moist curds.

Remove the dough from the processor and press it into a disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least 2 hours.

Roasted Sweet Pepper Salsa

I'm not the world's greatest friend, I will freely admit that.  I forget to call and catch up, I don't always think to see if someone wants to walk the mall with me, I really like my alone time.  And I suppose I still have some lingering friendship issues that go way back to confrontations with some mean girls back in middle school (who doesn't have those?).  And, yes, you're right.  I'm in my late 30s so I really need to get over that.

Most of my friends are okay with my communication issues.  In fact, many of them are exactly like me.  Maybe that's why I chose them as friends.  We all get it.  We don't need to chat every day for hours on end to be close, instead we're secure enough in our friendships to call when we need each other or genuinely want to talk or get together.  And that makes those conversations, dinners or talks over a glass of wine all the more meaningful.

But as most things in life go, one of these things is not like the other.  I have one super close friend, Libby, who doesn't put up with my silence.  She holds me accountable for putting the time and effort into the friendship.  And frankly, that's what I love about her the most.  If she loves you, she'll let you know.  Out loud and with passion.  Of course you also don't want to get on her bad side, because she's just as vocal about that too.  Libby is fiercely loyal, generous with her time and talents and she will pull you along with her for the crazy ride of life all the while pulling you out of your own shell.

Libby is also the one friend who loves to cook with me.  When we lived close to each other we'd spend whole days just rummaging through cookbooks and online recipes and cooking up a storm.  Those were some of the best days ever.  And even now that we live many hundreds of miles apart, we still text photos of great dinners we've made and compare notes on techniques or recipes we'd like to try.  It's a friendship that will endure and stand out from any of the others I've had or will have in my life.  Libby is a true treasure in my life.

So I suppose it's fitting that I stole the idea for this recipe from her.  It's one of my favorite Libby dishes and one the was made to share on several of those marathon cooking days or Friday night dinners at each others' houses.  I have a feeling it will quickly become one of your favorites too.  It's a simple salsa that will brighten up a dull day and sit perfectly aside that beer with a lime in it on a summertime picnic table.  There's really nothing that compares to a freshly made salsa, and most especially this one.

Roasted Sweet Pepper Salsa
Makes 2 generous cups of salsa.  Inspired by Libby.
For the printable recipe, click here.

I often worry when I post a recipe like this that it will be too simple and unimpressive.  But then, who am I trying to impress?  And, honestly, everyone needs a perfect salsa recipe in their recipe files.  This one is mine.  It's the best with freshly made tortilla chips (just quarter those cute little corn tortillas and deep fry, then sprinkle with salt), but the bagged chips will taste just as great when paired with this salsa and a beer.  You must have the beer.  You won't regret it.  I never really measure my quantities when I make salsa, so these are approximates.  And the truth is, salsa is one of those things that you have to taste along the way anyway.  You never know how flavorful and fresh the tomatoes will taste or how spicy your pepper will be.  So try as you go and you'll get it right.

2 red, yellow or orange bell peppers or 6 of the multicolored baby bell peppers
3 large Roma or plum tomatoes, coarsely chopped
1/2 white or red onion
1 to 2 jalapeno or serrano chilies
handful (about 1/3 cup) cilantro
juice of 1 lime
salt to taste (I usually end up with 1/2 to 1 tsp)

Place the bell peppers on a baking tray in a hot oven (450 degrees) to roast, or you can place them over an open gas flame on your stove top or grill.  Roast the peppers until the skins have charred and blistered, turning occasionally.  It will take about 10-12 minutes to get them fully roasted.  Place the roasted peppers in a plastic or paper bag and seal.  When the peppers are cool enough to handle, peel the skins off and pull out the stems and seeds.  Coarsely chop the peppers.

Seed and coarsely chop the jalapeno pepper.  You may want to taste the tiniest bit to determine the amount of heat the pepper has (I usually just touch a cut end to my tongue and can judge it's heat by that tiny taste).

You can chop all of the ingredients by hand and simply mix them together.  You will get a chunky salsa if you do it that way.  If you chop by hand, simply chop all of the ingredients as finely as you like them, stir together and taste to decide how much salt you'd like and if the salsa needs any additional lime juice.  I like a smoother salsa so I use my food processor to do the work for me.  To make the salsa using a food processor, place the onion and jalapeno in the food processor and pulse several times to begin chopping.  Then add the rest of the ingredients and process until some larger pieces still remain but the salsa is mostly finely chopped.  Taste for salt and lime.

Serve with tortilla chips.  The salsa will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for 2-3 days.

Fresh Tomato Fettucini Aglio e Olio and a Food Preservation Class

This is the last tomato recipe for quite a while, I promise.  But I just couldn't resist sharing it with you.  The beauty of this dish lies in its simplicity and freshness.  And its source was one of pure joy for me.

This beautiful estate was the setting for a full day of tomato madness- tasting, cooking, "putting up", and drinking- everything that is possible to do with a tomato to save it beyond its summer season.  All of this tomato-ness was part of the series of food preservation classes at the Institute of Domestic Technology in Alameda, California (I just love the tongue in cheek, throwback to the 50s name!).  The Institute is a brilliant combination of informational and hands-on classes teaching foodies how to do everything from making simple cheeses to mixing up homemade cocktail bitters and canning jars of green tomato chutney.  It is the brainchild of Joseph Shuldinger (a Master food preservationist himself) and now has classes nearly every weekend for students from all walks of life.  It's simple, honest food from scratch cooked by people who love to eat.  What could be better?

My wonderful hubby purchased me a spot in the Saving the Season:Tomatoes class for my birthday a couple of weekends ago.  And it was certainly a great way to spend my day- laughing, cooking and learning from the instructors as well as the others students in a gorgeous setting.  The class was held in the kitchens of The Greystone Mansion in Beverly Hills, a beautiful home (the largest in Beverly Hills!) nestled in the hills with a surprisingly storied history which is now a city park.  As we chopped and chatted in the butler's kitchen, it was hard not to get swept up in the grandeur and history of the place.  But then there were the tomatoes, so many tomatoes...

The class was led by both Shuldinger and Kevin West, blogger at Saving the Season and soon-to-be cookbook author.  I was blown away by Kevin's green chutney recipe, so much so that I came home and pulled all of my green tomatoes from the vines just so that I could make myself a batch.  But as the recipe is in his cookbook which has yet to be published, I don't think I ought to be sharing it.  You'll just have to wait for the spring and his book!

What I feel I can share with you is the recipe for the fresh tomato fettucini that we made after a wonderful farmer's market lunch.  Made from three simple ingredients, flour, eggs and home made tomato paste, the pasta was the easiest and most fun ways we used our preserved tomatoes that day.  It was made even better by the laughter of competition between groups to make the best looking pasta while trying to keep our pasta machines held to the table without and clamps!  I brought my share of the pasta home and had it for lunch the next day dressed simply with olive oil, garlic and a few snipped slow roasted tomatoes.  Perfection.

Fresh Tomato Fettucini Aglio e Olio (With Olive Oil and Garlic)
Makes about 3/4 lb- enough for four servings.
For a printable recipe, click here.

You can make this pasta either by hand or in a food processor.  I prefer the hand method- there's just something about kneading pasta dough that I find therapeutic- but the food processor method is just as good and is a bit easier to clean up.  I'll give instructions for both.

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp salt
2 large eggs
2 tbs tomato paste
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1-2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped, pressed or grated (depends on how garlicky you like it!)
3 tbs chopped slow roasted or sun dried tomatoes

To make dough by hand:  Put flour and salt in a pile on a clean counter.  Make a well in the center of the pile and crack the eggs into the center of the well.  Add the tomato paste to the eggs and beat the eggs and paste gently to incorporate.  Slowly begin to bring the flour into the wet mixture, pulling in from the sides with the fork.  At the same time, using your other hand, build up the walls of the well.  At some point, the fork will get too clogged up and the walls of the well will collapse.  At that point, switch to using your hands to incorporate the last of the flour.  Knead the dough for 5-10 minutes, until smooth and elastic.  You can add up to 2 tbs more flour as needed if the dough is too sticky.  Let the dough rest covered with plastic wrap or an inverted bowl for 30 minutes.

To make the dough using a food processor:  Add flour, salt, eggs and tomato paste to the bowl of a food processor.  Process until the dough just comes together, about 20 seconds.  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured counter and knead following the instructions above for the hand method.

Cut the rested dough into 8 pieces.  Working with one piece at a time (keeping the others covered), slightly flatten dough, dust it with flour and feed it through a pasta machine at its widest setting.  Fold the dough in half, lightly dust with flour and feed through the same setting.  Turn the pasta machine to the next widest setting, lightly flour the dough and pass through the machine.  Continue to pass the dough through the machine using even lower settings and dusting with flour as needed until you have a very thin and almost translucent sheet of pasta (this would be an 8 on a hand machine like an Atlas or a 5 or 6 on a Kitchen Aid mixer attachment).  Place the sheet of dough on a lightly floured counter or pasta drying rack for 10 minutes, then cut into strands using a pasta machine's cutting attachment or by hand.

To cook:  Cook the pasta in a large pot of boiling salted water until al dente, which will take only 1 or 2 minutes.  While the pasta is cooking, place the olive oil, garlic, and chopped dried tomatoes in a medium saute pan.  Slowly heat up the oil (on a medium or medium low setting) until the garlic becomes fragrant, stirring.  When the pasta is cooked, drain and place in the pan with the oil mixture.  Gently toss and remove from heat.  Serve, sprinkled with a few thyme leaves. 

Slow Roasted Cherry Tomatoes

The summer is slowly fading into fall.  School starts next week.  The mornings have been just a bit cooler and the sun is setting earlier each day.  The apples on my tree are almost ready to pick (and I'm having the hardest time resisting their beautiful pink blush).  Figs are appearing in the markets and on my neighbor's tree.  I've always loved this time of year, a time of transition from the frenzied activity of the summer to the slower pace of the fall.  Just a few short years ago, I would have been readying lesson plans and readying my classroom for 30 new 7th graders.  It's always been a time of anticipation, of excitement, of eagerness to start anew.

No one has informed my garden that summer is ending, however.  It continues to flourish, supplying my family with the most beautiful heirloom tomatoes, watermelons, carrots, and even a fresh new crop of late strawberries!  The slow trickle of a month ago- easily eaten over the course of a day or two- has become a full scale bombardment of tomatoes that my family can't possibly keep up with.  So I've begun to find ways to preserve the best of their summery goodness.  The large Riesentraube cherry tomatoes have become a smoky tomato jam for my Etsy shop, DuTill & Daughters.  The romas are ripening on the counter and will become canned crushed tomatoes ready for any number of winter sauces and stews.  I've even pickled my yellow pear tomatoes- that's a first for me.  And the rest of the cherry tomatoes (one really big colander full), well, there was no doubt in my mind they had a higher calling than simply adorning a salad.

Halved, sprinkled with olive oil, salt and pepper, thyme and garlic cloves- the cherry tomatoes were slow roasted to perfection.  This is probably my favorite way to preserve tomatoes, the sweetness concentrating from the slow caramelization in the oven, the slight bit of herb flavor and the roasted garlic.  What's not to love about that?  I can just smell this fall's braised short ribs and lentil soups, rich and fragrant, with a few of these slow roasted beauties tucked into the sauce, reminding me that summer is not that far away after all.

Slow Roasted Cherry Tomatoes
For a printable version, click here.

This is not so much a recipe as it is a set of directions.  You can use this to preserve as many or as few tomatoes as you have.  Season the tomatoes to your liking- you can easily switch up the thyme for rosemary, or leave out the herbs altogether.  I filled two sheet trays with halved tomatoes, which amounted to 8 quarter pints packed full.  I chose the smaller jars because I know I can use the small amount quickly and an open jar won't linger in the fridge, preserving the freshness of the rest of the roasted tomatoes.  

Unfortunately, there is no good way to make these tomatoes shelf stable.  I do NOT recommend simply pouring olive oil over them and closing the jar.  Commercial kitchen can do that because they have the means to heat the oil quickly to kill any possible pathogens.  We home cooks don't have that option.  The solution is to pack the tomatoes well into freezer-safe jars or zip top bags and freeze them for later use.  The tomatoes will store safely in the freezer for several months.

To make the slow roasted tomatoes:

1. Halve the cherry tomatoes.  Lay them cut side up on a parchment-lined baking sheet.  Sprinkle them with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Drizzle with olive oil and toss a few cloves of garlic and sprigs of thyme onto the pan.

2. Roast the tomatoes at 300 degrees for 2 1/2 to 3 hours, depending on the size of the tomatoes and how dry you prefer them.  When the tomatoes are done roasting, mash the roasted garlic and give the whole mixture a light toss.  Let the tomatoes cool on the pan.

3. Tightly pack the tomatoes into freezer safe containers.  Freeze until needed, up to 6 months.  Use the tomatoes in salads, pasta sauces, stews and braises in place of tomato paste or in addition to it, over white beans, or to top grilled bread (to name just a few things).