Recipes that Keep On Giving: Honey Baked Lentils.

Too much of too-muchness is glorious, isn’t it?

Except for the day afterwards.

Returning to my humble abode after a lovely few days of camping out at the parents, I’ve decided to make good use of a much anticipated Christmas present and cook a dinner that, whilst richly flavoured and a pleasure to eat, is low-fat, low-sugar, low-GI, high fibre, gluten and dairy free, and vegetarian – even vegan, if you’re flexible.

Normally I don’t restrict what I eat in light of any of those particular dietary requirements. After Christmas, however, a meal that fits all of those bills is not so much of an act of restrictive discipline, but more of a compassionate gesture to my system, in the hopes that it will forgive me, for I know what I have done, and it was BAD.

As for the much anticipated present? Well, let me tell you – or rather, let me show you…




It’s a Le Creuset! Those of you who are serious cooks, or those of you who’ve just watched Julie and Julia, will know that Le Creuset is the Alpha Romeo of kitchen brands. And mine is red.



Along with kindness towards my body, taking this baby out for a test drive is a further compelling reason why tonight’s dinner needed to be Le Creusefied.

So, here is my recipe for Honey Baked Lentils, served with steamed snow peas and soft polenta. I hope that your tummy appreciates your compassion as much as I hope mine will.

Honey Baked Lentils with Steamed Snow Peas and Soft Polenta

Honey Baked Lentils – serves 4, and freezes beautifully.

1 cup black, brown, or green lentils
½ an onion, chopped
2 ½ cups water
2 teaspoons vegetable stock powder (ensure this is a vegan, dairy and gluten free brand if these are core values for you)
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons honey (Here’s where the veganism of this dish is called into question. I personally think that bees are pretty darn happy buzzing around and making abundant rivers of honey, but I may just be an unenlightened philistine when it comes to bee rights. How about we all just do what we know is right in our hearts, m-kay?)
2 tablespoons oil (I use 1 tablespoon sesame oil, 1 tablespoon extra virgin)
2 garlic cloves, crushed
A large knob (about 4cm) ginger, grated. (As a side note, who decided that anything measuring 4cm merited the descriptor ‘a large knob’? Every recipe I read seems to use 4cm as the benchmark for large. In most other contexts a 4cm knob would warrant a completely different descriptor regarding size – ‘small’, ‘miniscule’, or ‘medically interesting’ are all adjectives I would use. Perhaps I should henceforth refer to all 4cm knobs of ginger as size challenged but lovely once you get to know it? But I digress…)
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons ground cumin
3 teaspoons chilli flakes (more or less, depending on how hot you like it)

1. Preheat oven to 100 Celcius.
2. In your Le Creuset…




or, if you’re still waiting on Santa to make you a member of the Kitchen Equipment Elite, in a medium sized casserole dish with lid, combine all ingredients.
3. Place casserole dish or Le Creuset in your preheated oven for 2 and a half hours, or until lentils are soft and most if the liquid has been absorbed. You can shorten the cooking time by increasing your oven temperature to about 160 Celsius, which means you only have to wait an hour and a half for dinner. The resultant lentils are still amazingly tasty, but will probably be even better the next day, as the flavours will have had more of a chance to get to know one another. Whereas if you let them mingle in a very slow oven for three hours, the resultant flavours have had time to work out their differences and harmonise into a beautiful marriage without the need for a period in the cold wasteland of the refrigerator.

Soft Polenta and Steamed Snow Peas – this makes enough for just me, so adjust to suit yourself and the number you are feeding accordingly. It’s also a nifty way to kill two birds with one stone – you cook the snow peas in the steam emitted by the water you have to heat for the polenta.

Approx. 250g super fresh snow peas, topped and tailed, and cut into largish chunks.
1/3 of a cup instant polenta (you can get this at most supermarkets – it’s in the isle with the flours and other baking goods).
Water
Salt, pepper, olive oil, and/or butter (again, depending on taste, dietary requirements, and how much cheese you ate at Christmas).

1. Place about a cup and a half of water in the bottom of a saucepan which can be fitted with your steamer. Set over a high heat.
2. Pop the snow peas into the steamer, arrange your steamer over your pot of water, which should be heating up nicely now, and cover with a lid, so as not to loose any precious steam.
3. Give the snow peas between one and three minutes, until they are done as you like. Remove from steamer, replacing the saucepan lid. If you’re the kind of person who likes to blanche things, then blanche your peas. I just think it wastes ice cubes and makes your peas cold, but if you like cold soggy vegetables I’ll only judge you a little.
4. Set the table, even if it’s just you, with a cheerful tablecloth, soft fabric napkins, pretty bowls (another Christmas present from my lovely big little brother and his lovely girlfriend) and nice cutlery.




Don’t argue with me, just do it, it’s a very important step in this recipe.




5. Select a dining companion from your bookshelf. Tonight, I’m dining with Paul Kelly.




Paul and I go way back, and his ‘mongrel memoir’, his words not mine, was a welcome addition to my Christmas stocking. It’s the perfect reading for a dinner as soothing and compassionate as this one.
6. By the time you’ve faffed around with the peas, the table, and the bookshelf, the water should be at a good boil (there is method to my madness, as mama-K often says). Add in your polenta. The packet says ‘in a slow, steady, stream’, but I throw it in the pot and stir like hell.
7. Continue to stir until your polenta thickens – this shouldn’t be much longer than a couple of minutes. As the title implies, I like my polenta relatively soft, so I can tell that it’s done because it’s about the consistency of thick porridge. It also has the propensity to spit boiling hot dollops of polenta out of the pot and onto the stovetop, or an unsuspecting forearm, when it’s at this stage.
8. When it’s all getting a bit too difficult, remove polenta from heat, and add in your salt, pepper, oil and/or butter.
9. Pile the polenta into a bowl, top with a spoonful of the lentils, and the snow peas.




10. Eat, read, and drink some sparkling mineral water. Fell your inner equilibrium mercifully restored.