Chilled lentil soup + peppermint

I have a habit of reading cookbooks like most people read novels, with the frequent result of winding up hungry. Or – somewhat more embarrassingly – nodding off at night, dreaming of dinner, and then winding up hungry for some dish, ingredient, or another. At 4:30 in the morning.

This happened once with lentils. I’d been in college and therefore already had strange sleeping habits. I was also couple of years into my new eater’s role as Recovering Vegetarian and had sworn off all “health food,” which I considered to be the things like smooshy split peas and insta-brown rice that had defined my eating life of the previous six years. (Of course, vegetarianism need not be that, but I wasn’t the cleverest of high school students in this regard.) I was reading Madhur Jaffrey’s World Vegetarian, and no, why I bought this cookbook only after I stopped being vegetarian I can’t quite say. But when I read the book’s section on pulses—things like beans and lentils and most definitely healthy food—I immediately started craving lentils. Who craves lentils?

I may have had to wait a day or two, but managed to make this dish in very short order and at whatever odd hour of the night I woke up hungry for it. And then I loved lentils all over again, which I still do today. I particularly love Puy lentils, which are small and very dark green. They hold their shape much better than any of their cousins during cooking, and have a much finer texture. “Health food” they are not—in the sense of the yucky stuff I ate as a teenaged vegetarian—but healthy, yes very.

The origins of the soup below don’t come from Madhur Jaffrey at all (Love isn’t always logical, I guess.), but rather from Patricia Wells, which she in turn attributes to the Pourcel brothers, who own a Michelin-starred restaurant in Montpellier, France along with a host of others in Asia and North Africa. The original recipe was for a chilled lentil gazpacho, involving, as I have used below, some peppermint extract. The rest is more or less my own liberal interpretation, with the components of the mirepoix (aromatic vegetables) altered, a different fat for cooking, the addition of a bouquet garni, the subtraction of the usage of chicken stock, the addition of lemon, a different desired consistency, and so forth.

I’d made this to go with a poached salmon dish, as lentils and salmon are a natural pairing, the former’s earthiness setting off the latter’s richness nicely. The addition of the peppermint extract is what makes this soup special; it adds an unusual tonic tone, which, I think, is particularly nice in this hot weather. For the fresh herb garnish, though, I’d recommend conventional mint over peppermint, as peppermint tends to be a little overpowering when raw. The proportions below will serve at least four with some left over for, you know, if you wake up hungry in the middle of the night and are craving lentils.

Chilled lentil soup + peppermint

1 leek  |  1 stalk celery  |  1 carrot, peeled  |  1 T neutral oil, like grapeseed or canola  |  salt + pepper  |  1 cup green lentils  |  1 bouquet garni or whatever of its components you have on hand (1 bay leaf, couple sprigs thyme or a pinch of the dried, couple parsley stems)  |  6 cups water  |  1-2 drops peppermint extract  |  ½ lemon  |  fresh mint

Clean the leek: Cut off the dark green part and reserve for another use. Split in half lengthwise through the root. Fill a bowl with water and fan the leek halves out in it, swishing them around until all the sand falls out. Slice the leek halves thinly into half moons. Slice the celery and carrot thinly, too, but don’t worry too much about the shape, as the whole thing will be puréed at the end. If all the pieces could be about the same size, that would be great.

Heat the oil in a big pot over medium-low heat. Add the leek, celery, and carrot, season with salt + pepper, cover, and let sweat for about 2 minutes. Then uncover and let the liquid evaporate for another 2 minutes. Do not let the vegetables brown. Add the lentils, stir well to mix with the vegetables, then add the bouquet garni and water. Season with salt + pepper again, cover, and bring to a boil. Uncover partially, turn the heat down so that the soup simmers happily, and let cook until the lentils are quite cooked. I used Puy lentils, and this took about 35 minutes. This may take longer for different types of lentils.

Fish out the bouquet garni, and run the whole thing through a blender. Add the drop or two of peppermint extract, a squeeze of lemon, blend again, and taste for seasoning. Shove through a strainer if you would like something very smooth (I did). Chill for at least a couple of hours before serving. Chill the cups or bowls you’d like to serve the soup in, too.

Shortly before serving, slice some mint leaves thinly (stack and roll them up before slicing to make a pretty chiffonade), taste, and adjust the soup’s seasoning again. Serve in the chilled bowls, piling a little bit of mint on top of each.