After spending last weekend in Montreal putting all kinds of nasty things in my body (zip it, gutter jokes), I thought it would be a good idea to return, both in life and in columnsphere, to food that could probably pass as . . . food. Not to imply that the restaurant culture in Montreal is anything less than a smorgasbord of esoteric gourmet-bistro-infused artisanal-ly smoked nonsense. But it so happens that a weekend away in the city of hedonism and Bloc parties can throw a wrench into whatever shreds of a “healthy eating” new years resolution may have still remained intact. When I arrived home from my little vacation, it was all I could do to keep myself from charging into Metro and burying my face in the entire green and leafy section of the produce aisle.
It also doesn’t help that I left to drive back to Toronto at around 7:30 AM on what Dr. Cliff Arnall has uncreatively dubbed “Blue Monday,” which, according to the psychobabble that comprises the pseudoscience we take as fact, is the most depressing day of the year. The third Monday in January apparently marks the day when every overstuffed and weak-willed North American experiences a collective downward spiral across all fronts, coinciding with the reintegration of the Krispy Kreme donut as a viable source of dietary sustenance. That is, people give up, and they give up hard.
It behooves me to point out that the North American demographic to which I am referring are the slice of the pie who can afford to make grandiose new year’s resolutions regarding life changes to the tune of gym memberships, Lulu-niforms and Whole Foods shopping sprees. Contrary to whatever beliefs about the causes of fatness have been popularized by bad marketing, the group of people who are the most at risk for obesity and its companions (diabetes, heart disease, etc.) are people who live in urban food deserts where the nearest vegetable is the corn derivative stuffed into taquitos from 7/11.
Unfortunately, the correlation between poverty, food insecurity, and obesity in North America has been obscured by a host of misdirected ad campaigns and “weight loss” initiatives. Case in point: Mayor Rob Ford’s “Cut the Waist” campaign. Not another cutback! Send in the puns.
Since Rob Ford and his sidekick, brother Doug, announced their public weight loss campaign on January 11, they’ve each dropped a staggering 10 pounds from their respective weights of 275 pounds (Doug) and 330 pounds, (El Mayor). Which is probably a good amount of weight to lose, seeing as that’s a number they can count on their own two hands. Though given the hefty birds the Mayor has been known to flip at mother-daughter pairs when he’s not too busy talking on his cell phone while driving or hiding from the Pride Parade, he’s probably losing weight just raising his arms. I bet every time he high fives someone from Etobicoke, his BMI drops.
After his first weigh-in on Monday, the Mayor described his tactical approach to weight loss as eating “like a rabbit” and using avoidance techniques such as “driving past Baskin and Robbins,” or “returning phone calls” when hunger pangs strike. I suppose we can assume then, that before our darling leader put the brakes on the gravy train, he spent most of his time doing wheelies outside of Dairy Queen and hitting ‘ignore’ on his Blackberry. With all this success, Ford should probably pass on these tips to other people dealing with the twin challenges of having too much time on their hands, and being fat.
In lieu of adopting the Ford diet, I offer you this week’s installment of Sal(i)vation (long-winded intro, I know) in which we create a dish that is healthy and cheap, and will surely induce weight loss, if only because it looks as much like it does going in as it does going out, if you get my drift. Friends, I give you, Alimental Excremental Rudimental Lentil Soup.
Alright, so making soup is probably one of the easiest things you’ll ever do in your life, cooking wise. How hard can it be to put things in a pot and boil them? The first thing you need to know about me and soup, is that I find the soup-cooking process very cathartic. The second thing you need to know is that I’m absolutely against the use of bullion cubes of any kind. Don’t know what bullion cubes are? Good. Never learn. They belong in the same place as corn syrup solids and modified milk ingredients.
Let’s begin, at the beginning. Here’s what you need:
- 4-6 carrots (use your discretion, if you planted and sowed them yourself, they’re probably all organic and tiny, so compensate)
- 4-5 stalks of celery (same deal as above)
- One big white onion or two small white onions
- KALE (we can get into kale in another installment, use as much as you’d like – it shrivels)
- 1 28 oz. can of diced tomatoes (preferably not soaked in sodium solution or whatever formaldehyde offshoot canning companies use these days)
- 2.5 cups of lentils (here comes the soluble fiber!)
- 1.5 cups of barley, or bulgur (add for added fiber)
- Olive oil (enough to coat the bottom of your pot)
- Cumin (I can already hear the ingredients saying “Cuminside the pot!”)
- Coriander (someone recently brought to my attention that coriander is the dried and crushed version of cilantro, which is the leafy green herb that I used in the keen-wow salad, for those of you who are dedicated followers. In this recipe you need the dried stuff.)
- Dried Parsley
- Thyme (and Rosemary, so she won’t feel left out)
- Salt and pepper (do I even need to tell you that?)
- Bay leaves (these are toxic, so keep an eye on them)
And, here’s what to do:
Coat the bottom of your pot with olive oil, and turn the heat on medium (here you can also turn the lights down low, for effect).
Chop up your carrots, celery and onion, throw them in the pot.
Add your cumin, coriander, parsley, and thyme. And your bay leaf/leaves. Don’t be scared. You can also add some salt and pepper, but keep those guys hanging around. They’re a constant.
Using a wooden spoon (you can use anything, I just say wooden spoon because then you can relate to my accompanying pictures if you get confused), stir around your ingredients so far. Make sure you’re generous with the spices. This whole situation you’ve just created is the base of your soup. If you mess this up, you might have to resort to bullion cubes, and then you may as well quit while you’re ahead and settle for partially cooked celery-carrot-onion salad.
While you’re stirring your pot, you can start boiling about 6-8 cups of water. You can also just use regular temperature water, but this step gives you something to do while you’re stirring.
After about 8-10 minutes, as the smell of your base begins to fill up the room (zip it, bathroom jokes), get ready to add the rest of your ingredients.
Ready? Next, add in your entire can of diced tomatoes.
Then, add in the dried lentils and the barley/bulgur (or both!)
Finally, add your water, and stir everything all around.
Cover the pot, bring to a boil. You’ll know when you’ve brought it, because the soup will gurgle and splutter and the pot will huff and puff.
Once it’s gurgling and spluttering, reduce the heat to low and let that baby simmer for an hour or so. I get impatient, so I check on mine a lot. Which is a watched kettle never boils situation, so don’t take any cues from me on that front.
Now all you have left is your kale! And your salt and pepper, but you should be adding those constantly. Chop up your kale, or rip it like a boss, and get ready to add it . . .in one hour or so.
When you can’t wait any longer, or you’ve hit the one-hour mark, open it up and take a whiff. MMMMMM!! Stir in your kale until it wilts (this will take about 11 seconds).
Remove bay leaves.
Put on a bib, and a diaper. Serve in bowls. Enjoy!
At the end of your soup-making expedition, you should have an ungodly amount of very delicious, and excessively healthy stew-slash-soup. Also, your soup will contain enough soluble fiber to require you to stay very near a washroom at all times. So, as Rob Ford barrels along, cutting his waist, you will be cutting some “waste” of your own (zip it, fart jokes)!
