My grandmother Esther’s lentil soup was one of my favorite things. It was like most of her cooking: simple, but with hidden depths. I liked it so much you’d think I’d have made it many times in adulthood, but I never have. I’m not sure why I’ve spent most of my life lentil-free, except for the occasional dal (an Indian lentil dish) or lentil soup at restaurants.
Maybe my fond lentil memories were jogged when I came across a recipe for barbecued baked lentils, which can, depending on your whim, serve as vegetarian sloppy Joes.
I wasn’t sure what my English husband, who probably wouldn’t recognize a lentil if it kicked him in the shins, would make of this. I thought he might be overwhelmed by the presence of an unfamiliar legume. (You might think I’m exaggerating about his food persnicketiness but this is the same man who, for years, picked the raisins out of his raisin bran because he thought it had too many raisins, thus upsetting the ideal balance of raisins to bran flakes.) Guess what? He liked it and had seconds and ate the leftovers again the next day.
The basic recipe is simple: Wash a 16-ounce bag of dried lentils in a colander, then pour into a slow cooker with one diced onion, one diced pepper, two cloves minced garlic, one can of fire-roasted diced tomatoes (with liquid) and one 32-ounce box of vegetable broth. Add ½ teaspoon each cumin, paprika and taco seasoning along with ¼ cup each ketchup and barbecue sauce, 2 tablespoons soy sauce and 1 tablespoon each brown sugar and molasses. Cook it on high for three hours, stirring a couple times every hour to keep it from sticking to the sides, and then turn it to low for three hours to continue the magical flavor-melding. The baked lentils just barely fit in my 2-quart slow cooker so I recommend using a larger cooker if you have it.
You can eat this by the bowl or make a sophisticated sloppy Joes by serving it over a piece of crusty bread, toasted on both sides in a skillet with olive oil or butter. The barbecue sauce gives it a subtle smoky-sweet flavor that might go well with grilled meats, for the omnivores out there. Or you can try it all three ways, since the recipe makes servings enough for a dozen. Unless you’re bringing this to a party, you’ll likely have leftovers, but that’s a good thing because letting this sit in the fridge overnight lets the flavors and spices combine for an even tastier dish.
I made the whole party-size recipe because I wanted to share it with my dad. He likes unusual foods, or foods paired in surprising ways. (Case in point: his scrambled eggs, which contain celery and corn chip dust from the bottom of a tortilla chip bag. I haven’t tasted them but then I don’t feel like I need to.)
He thought lentil sloppy Joes (or baked barbecued lentils) sounded intriguing so I put a few servings in a to-go container just for him.
I gave him the baked lentils when he dropped by to say goodbye before leaving on a two-week driving trip to Montreal to attend the National Cartoonists Society and Association of American Editorial Cartoonists convention in Montreal. (Nope, I don’t know why the Association of American cartoonists are meeting in Canada. They’re cartoonists. Maybe they think it’s funny.)
He’s driving the whole way, averaging seven hours a day. It’s not the first time he’s undertaken a cross-country trip, though this trip will be his longest. He just really likes to drive, he said. But the real reason he’s driving is so that he can take his loyal companion, a muscular, slightly obnoxious rat terrier named Auggie. If you’re British, maybe you can guess what I mean by “slightly.”
I have mixed feelings about the trip. I worry about him, naturally.
It’s a mind-bogglingly long drive, even if you like driving. It will take seven days to get to Montreal, logging between five hours and nine hours each day.
He might encounter rough weather or get distracted with something Auggie is doing or take his eyes off the road for a few seconds while fiddling with the CD player. I mean, we could all have car accidents at any time for a million reasons. But this is my dad and I want him to be safe.
I also want him to keep having adventures because that’s what makes him so interesting. He does stuff, probably a lot more stuff than I do on any given day.
He walks about a billion miles with Auggie. He keeps up with friends in Vancouver, Portland and California. He’s active in his church, volunteering as a greeter and as a member of its arts committee. He cooks himself proper meals. He looks in on his neighbors. He works on his own fine art pieces and he’s a member of the Battle Ground Art Alliance. He sings at every open mic night at Ridgefield Craft Brewing. He goes to pipe organ concerts (please, for your own well-being, do not ask him any questions even tangentially related to pipe organs). And he draws a weekly political cartoon for syndication.
When he comes back, he’ll have a thumb drive full of photographs and a head full of stories and more arcane bits of information than any one human should possess. He’ll talk about people I don’t know as though I do know them and he’ll be sure to name them once, fleetingly, before using only pronouns for the rest of the conversation so I can’t follow anything he’s saying. I’m pretty sure he does that on purpose. I can only hope he continues to confuse me for many years to come. But I’m never going to eat his scrambled eggs.
Barbecue Baked Lentils
1 16-ounce bag dried lentils, washed
1 32-ounce box of low-sodium vegetable broth
1 diced onion
1 diced bell pepper
1 14.5-ounce can fire-roasted diced tomatoes
2 cloves minced garlic
½ teaspoon paprika
½ teaspoon cumin
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon taco seasoning (or more to taste)
2 tablespoons soy sauce
¼ cup ketchup
¼ cup barbecue sauce
1 tablespoon molasses
1 tablespoon brown sugar
Put all ingredients in two-quart or larger crockpot. Cook on high for 3 hours, stirring to prevent sticking to the sides or burning, then turn to low for 3 more hours.
Enjoy by the bowl, as a side dish or serve over slices of crusty white bread toasted on both sides in a skillet with olive oil or butter.
