The Humble Lentil

As I've mentioned before, we have lived in Italy twice: once in the late 1980s and again, in the first year of this new millenium. Such rich cultural experiences can be had by living, not just visiting, overseas. Both times (and these opportunities were related to my husband's work) we determined to immerse ourselves in Italian life. We studied the language and tried to be culturally sensitive. We spent time in our neighbors' homes. Our kids played with an assortment of Francescas and Federicos. We ate Italian food, attended their festivals, and drank a LOT of cappuccinos, er, um, cappuccini.

Here in North Carolina, a traditional meal for New Year's Day is black-eyed peas. Eat 365 black-eyed peas for 365 days of good luck. In Italy, it's lentils. Indeed, it would be easier to eat 365 lentils. I didn't grow up in either place, so I've no attachment to the traditions, but it's always nice to have a good go-to recipe for these things if the mood strikes.

 So, in honor of the new year, our first cooking night involved this humble legume. Inexpensive, mineral and vitamin rich, and available in many colors, these high-fiber jewels need little introduction. But American diets don't typically contain them. I am not sure when I ate my first lentils, but I can guarantee it was well into my adult life.

Menu:

Lentil Stew with Sausage and Tortellini

Cornbread (homemade this time)

Assorted Pickles and Olives

Apple Crisp with Vanilla Ice Cream

My dear friend, Ana, also spent many years in Europe and introduced me to this wonderful recipe. I invited a crowd to help me cook this time, and we had many new faces. This recipe is easily multiplied and accompanied by cornbread and finger food, makes a hearty and well-rounded meal. It was a cold night when we cooked together, so a warm apple crisp with ice cream was perfect to go with this comforting soup. Becca, of Puerto Rican cooking night fame, chimed in, with "let's make more of the 'goody'!" She was talking about the topping to make apple, well, crisp. So we doubled the butter, brown sugar and cinnamon and, well, she was right! It was super-wonderful.