Presentable Lentils

I can cook myself out of a funk. I’ve done it before, I can do it again. Last week I was thanking the world for all its riches, this week I’m having trouble dragging myself out of bed and I can’t seem to dig a path toward the surface of my desk.

Part of this, I think, has to do with child care – we have not yet availed ourselves of the many fabulous options for French day care – not even sure what we could get into at this point. Not sure why the new parent exhaustion has decided to hit me now – but here it is, and it feels like a sledgehammer.

I was on the phone with my mother last night trying to put together documents for Augustin’s American citizenship appointment next week. They need proof that I actually lived on US soil for 5 years. I have my college transcript of course, and Paul found some electric bills and old pay stubs from my job at the American Craft Museum. But my childhood, it seems, has been all but erased. Mom called back later, just for fun, to tell me she’d been to the vault and found my 1st grade report card from Ms. Lydia Becker, saying, in so many words: “Elizabeth is very creative, but doesn’t quite have her shit together.” What else is new? I’m working on it.

The apartment, it has to be said, is a disaster at the moment – if we were trying to adopt a child, we would never pass inspection. Somehow half the contents of the linen closet ended up in the bathtub – and what came out simply won’t go back in. I tried to remedy the situation by throwing out a shoebox of old make-up – the lipstick from my wedding (was it really that brownish?) and some Annick Goutal perfume samples that I couldn’t bear to toss because I love the name – Ce Soir ou Jamais (tonight or never), but hate the smell.

Thank god, cleaning out the cupboards in the kitchen is a lot more satisfying than the bathroom. I have a city kitchen – so there is not much room for stock, but I do have my staples. No matter what else is out of whack, I can usually count on having a box of Puy lentils and a can of tomatoes on hand.

The French are very attached to lentils; they are sensible unpertenious year-round fare - served cold and al dente in summer salads or warm and spiced under a piece of pan roasted salmon for a dinner party. Lentils are yet another example of what Americans might eat only as diet or health food that the French eat just because they're really good.

Often I just simmer my lentils as a vegetarian dish – onions, a can of tomatoes, some broth cubes, lots of chopped parsley a bit of white wine. But this week required a little extra omph, so I added a cured ham hock – which gave the whole pot a wonderful smoky sit-by-the-fire-and-put-your-feet-up flavor.

When I de-boned the pork and spooned some lentils into shallow bowls – it looked rather put together, like something you might see in a trendy “comfort food” bistro of the moment. Not bad for the back of the cupboard. I figure, if I can still put together a presentable dinner, it’s possible that I’m not quite as strung out as I feel…

Stewed Lentils with Smoked Pork

1 smoked ham hock
500 grams (2 ½ cups) dried Puy lentils
2 tbsp. oil olive
1 medium red onion, chopped
2 carrots, chopped

1 small blub of fennel, with stems, chopped
A handful of fresh flat leaf parsley, including some stems, chopped
1 fresh bay leaf

A few sprigs of fresh thyme
1 28 ounce can of whole tomatoes (with their juice), chopped
1 cup of dry white wine
6 cups of water or broth
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

To serve: chopped fresh coriander, sour cream or cream fraiche, fresh lime

Heat the oil over a medium heat in a large stockpot. Add the onion and carrot, sauté for 5-10 minutes, until the onion is translucent.

Add the lentils and stir to coat with oil. Add the wine, broth, chopped tomatoes, parsley and bay leaf and a good grinding of pepper. Place the ham hock in the center. Leave to simmer over a low heat with cover ajar until the lentils are tender and most of the liquid has been absorbed, about 1 hour.

Debone the pork. Serve lentils in a shallow bowl topped with chunks of meat – I like to serve with a slice of lemon or lime and some fresh coriander on top. There will be enough meat for two. Enough leftover lentils to get serve another 3 or 4. The leftovers make excellent soup – try stirring in a little cumin when you reheat. Then serve the lentils, steaming hot, with a dab of fresh plain yogurt or sour cream – squeeze over the lime and a add some chopped fresh coriander.

Serves 2 the first time around with meat, enough lentils for 6