The Fountain of Youth: French Lentil Soup

I'm 46 years old and happy to be 46.  When I was 35, I was happy to be 35.  When I was 27, well, it's obvious, right?

I've never wished to be younger.  I've never wished to go back in time (even with the undeniably adorable Michael J. Fox).  When asked "the question," I've never been tempted to trim a few years off my age.  (Which is not to say that there wasn't a time when I was tempted to add a few years.  That, however, was about 30 years ago, so I'll plead youth, ignorance and invoke the statute of limitations.)

True, not many people would want to re-visit their middle school years, but I never pined for high school days, either.  I couldn't have scooted across that municipal auditorium graduation stage any faster if I'd had jet propulsion.

College was great fun (and maybe even better than that), but I didn't want to extend the experience.  I was on the four-years-or-bust program. Part of it was financial, of course, but given my tendency to procrastinate, I honestly don't think I could've survived a fifth year of all-nighters.  Or kegging.  Or all-night-kegging.

True, now that I'm "single" again, I wouldn't mind looking younger.  My son asks whether he gave me these wrinkles, but the truth is, they're the hard-earned result of spending the better part of my youth dipped in baby oil and sprawled on a towel at Folly Beach, South Carolina.  (Ironic name for a beach, don't you think?)

Plenty of corrective procedures are available, but wands, not scalpels, would be my instruments of choice.  So unless my plastic surgeon is one Harry Potter, MD, it's not going to happen.  Even worse than surgery would be the recovery.  Why would I want to spend a couple of weeks looking like the post-Chris-Brown Rihanna, when the ultimate result still wouldn't be Rihanna?

I've got to admit that the newly available prescription gel Latisse that grows thicker, longer lashes holds huge appeal.  Apparently, it's both easy and safe.  You just apply the gel to your lashline, and voila -- lusher lashes!  Well, not exactly "voila."  And not exactly affordable.  "Voila" requires two to four months of daily use and $240-$480.

Then, you're stuck.  Those plush, luxurious lashes only stay as long as you use the product.  Leave the Latisse, and you're back to counting those individual hair folicles.  Even I can do that math.  A thicket of lashes for one year would require the financial resources of Harry's account at Gringotts.  I don't know exactly how to convert sickles and knuts (wizarding money), but let's just say that $1,400 buys a lot of Maybelline.

So it looks as if I'm going to have to turn to food for a more youthful appearance.  I took the "Real Age" quiz online (RealAge ), and surprise, surprise, my "real" age is within a year of my, you guessed it, real age.

Naturally, the kind folks at RealAge have come up with a list of things I can do to be more youthful  -- including going back in time and choosing sunscreen instead of baby oil, and avoiding the emotional stress of divorce -- but it's too late for that.  The solution now is working more fiber and vegetables into my diet.  Once again, soup comes to the rescue.

French Lentil and Spinach Soup

This is a very flavorful soup.  Don't skimp on the vinegar -- it really brightens the taste.

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 onions, diced

2 carrots, cleaned and diced

2 ribs celery, diced

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 lb. dried French green lentils, washed and picked over

8 cups of chicken broth (canned is fine)

1 ham hock

1/2 teaspoon black peppercorns

1/2 teaspoon whole cloves

1/2 teaspoon marjoram

2 bay leaves

1 teaspoon kosher salt

water

4-6 shakes of hot sauce

1 bag fresh spinach, chopped or 1 (10 oz) package frozen chopped spinach

3 tablespoons red wine vinegar

salsa (for garnish)

sour cream (for garnish)

In a very large saucepan or large soup pot, heat olive oil.  Saute onions until soft, about 5 minutes.  Stir in carrots and celery, saute another 3-4 minutes.  Stir in garlic, saute an additional minute.  Pour in chicken stock and lentils.  Bury ham hock in lentils.  In a small piece of cheesecloth (or better still, a teaball), place herbs and secure with string.  Bury this packet under the lentils.  Stir in salt, bring to a boil, and then reduce heat, simmering 1 1/2 - 2 hours, or until lentils are firm, but tender.  While simmering, add water to maintain the consistency you like.  (I like mine "brothy," but you may prefer yours thicker.)  When lentils are done, stir in vinegar and hot sauce.  Remove herbs and ham hock, and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Finally, add spinach (fresh or frozen), and stir until spinach is heated through.  Serve hot, garnished with salsa or sour cream or both.

What I Want For My Daughter

My darling, delightful daughter turned 12 yesterday.  I am only one year away from having two de facto teenagers in the house.  I'm only 52 weeks away from the much-dreaded/highly anticipated (depending upon your family station) teen years and all the hormones and acne and antics thereof.  I am only 18 score and five days away from realizing no one will ever again take my word as final, my opinions as golden, or my perspective as valid.

Shall we pray?

In truth, my girl is a joy.  She's got worries (oh boy), but she works it out -- admirably.  She's navigating the cliques and classes of middle school with aplomb.  She's smart and able and funny and athletic and giving and loyal.  And while she doesn't hesitate to lay the world's woes at my feet, she's just as quick to spin around and ask, sincerely, about my day.

Because I've been "there" (and wouldn't -- not for love, money, or even perfect hair and lush eyelashes -- ever go "back there"), I ache for her.  I want her to be resilient -- while being open and kind and confident.  I pray that she'll have an abundance of common sense while indulging an unending willingness to take risks.  I want to know that she'll always think of others -- and always see herself as blessed.

Plainly, my "List," which I think all parents have, goes on and on.

But on this, her twelfth birthday, perhaps I can skip my usual verbosity (or is it "verboseness," or perhaps "loquacity"? ) and narrow my birthday wishes for her down to four.

1)  I hope she'll always have a friend.  A friend makes good times better -- more memorable, more funny and more fabulous.  A good friend listens and shares and instructs.  In bad times, a friend helps you know what to do and and how to feel -- whether it's sorrow or anger or good, old-fashioned revenge.  Because she's not mired down in it, a friend can help you steer out of the darkest dilemma.  I'd also remind my daughter that, in a pinch, a good book can be a good friend, indeed.  But even more important, I'd take comfort in knowing that, if she has a friend, she is a friend.  What greater aspiration than that?

2)  I hope she'll always have laughter.  Laughing is fun.  Laughing lightens the heaviest loads.  Laughing makes you feel good.  (This is factual.  Research indicates that a good giggle session increases serotonin and the release of endorphins.)  Even when she least feels like it -- when she's certain she's the object of ridicule or the subject of gossip -- I hope she'll laugh.  I don't even mind if it's that asylum-worthy, eardrum-bursting hyena squawk.  (Since she reads this, she knows what I'm talking about.)

3)  I hope she'll always have a cat.  Cats are role models.  They are soft and finicky and independent.   They are graceful and fierce and demanding.  They command respect.  They are what we want our daughters to be.  I love dogs.   I love that our rescue dog, Josie, loves us to a fault, will do pretty much whatever we ask, and can lick her own, ahem, tail, but is that what we want in a young woman?  I think not.

4)  I hope she'll always have hope.  Believing -- no, knowing -- you can handle a situation means you're halfway done.  Having faith that an answer can be found means you're well on the road to finding that solution.  Holding out for what's good and what's right -- because you know that something good and right exists -- gives you faith in yourself and mankind and your Creator.

There are, of course, other things I think she needs to do.  She needs to learn to drive a stickshift.  She needs to fill up a passport before it expires.  She needs to -- just once -- propose a toast and shatter her drained champagne glass in the fireplace.  And because she's got not one, but two X chromosomes, she'll need one more thing.

Chocolate.

Is it coincidence that chocolate can elicit the return of friends and laughter and hope, and, when the wrapper is crumpled just right, bring a cat scampering into the room?

Maybe that's why my beloved 12-year-old daughter requested this favorite cake for her twelfth birthday -- chocolate cake with chocolate chips with chocolate frosting.

Chocolate Chocolate Chocolate Cake

Cake

3 cups flour

1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking soda

2 cups sugar

1 cup corn oil

2 cups cold water

1 tablespoon vanilla

1 1/2 cups chocolate chips

Frosting

1 1/4 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature

5 cups powdered sugar

8 tablespoons whole milk

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 scant cup unsweetened cocoa powder

Make the cake.  Preheat oven to 350.  Butter and flour three 9-inch cake pans.  (This is a delicate cake, so be sure to prepare pans well.)  Sift first five ingredients into a large bowl.  Mix water, oil and vanilla in a separate, small bowl.  Make a "well" in dry ingredients, pour in wet ingredients and whisk well.  Scrape batter into prepared pans, dividing evening.  Sprinkle 1/2 cup chocolate chips over batter in each pan.

Bake 25 minutes, or until layers test done.  Cool in pans on racks for 15 minutes, then turn cakes out and allow to cool completely.  

Make frosting.  Beat butter in large bowl (an electric mixer is best) until fluffy.  Gradually beat in three cups of powdered sugar.  beat in six tablespoons milk and vanilla.  Add cocoa and remaining sugar, gradually.  Beat until blended and fluffy, using remaining two tablespoons of milk, if necessary.

Assemble cake, with layers chocolate-chip-side up and about 2/3 cup frosting spread between each layer.  Spread remaining frosting over sides and top of cake.  Tastes even better the next day -- for breakfast!

What's For Dinner? (Part Two)

"What's for dinner?"

Although I routinely admonish the kids for broaching the question (see What's For Dinner? Part One), it's one that must be answered every day.  And since our household isn't a democracy (more like a dictatorship, I guess), the answer is not Chick-Fil-A.

I can approach it a couple of ways.  One is by flipping through magazines or cookbooks, or turning to Channel 55 -- the beloved Food Network.  In that event, though, I'll end up at the grocery store, spending more than I should.

I could skip the reading and watching and just go straight to the store, but without a plan, I'll likely spend even more recklessly.  Witness exhibits A and B in my pantry:  a) pickled ginger and b) smoked clams.  Honest, they seemed like pantry essentials at the time.

Or, I could just clean out the fridge.

If so, I'll have to think beyond this past Sunday's chicken, because the kids turn up their pert little noses at leftovers.  What I need are some forgotten ingredients -- something that will spark a meal and reduce the chilled chaos in my fridge.

There's an embarrassing amount of stuff in there that I can't bear to toss, but today is Use It Or Lose It Day.  Besides, those ingredients are taking up valuable space I'll need for that post-Lenten wine.  (Twenty-five days to go!)

Inexplicably, I have two jars of hoisin sauce.  One I bought for moo shu pork a few months back, but the second?  Maybe it could be put to use as a glaze for grilled salmon.  I've got sour cream and grated horseradish.  Maybe a light sauce for affordable London Broil?  I've got several handfuls of baby spinach.  Maybe a pasta primaverde?  (I'll tell the kids the spinach is parsley, of course.  Everyone knows that spinach is "disgusting.")

On the bottom shelf, I've also got two different types of barbeque sauce, which, really, is far from excessive, considering I'm a North Carolinian from South Carolina (pork, not beef, thank you).  I've also got four types of hot sauce -- bizarre, considering that I don't have the palate or stomach for heat.

Outside, clouds are moving in and the temperature's dropping.  Soup it is.

I can alter my basic quick vegetable soup by adding a few of these overlooked ingredients.  Add some rolls, and we'll have a meal -- and a much cleaner fridge.  

Clean Out The Fridge Soup

Broth

2 cans (14 ounce) chicken broth

1 tablespoon hoisin sauce (or 1 teaspoon soy sauce)

1/2 teaspoon grated ginger (if you've got it)

1 teaspoon fresh lemon or lime juice

shake or two of hot sauce

One handful of uncooked, fine egg noodles (optional)

1-2 cups broccoli flowerettes, cut into small, bite-size pieces

1/2 cup sliced baby carrots

1-2 cups raw spinach, sliced into fine ribbons

One handful of mushrooms, sliced thinly (optional)

1/2 - 1 cup cooked chicken, cut into bite-size pieces

Combine and heat broth ingredients to boiling.  Reduce heat to medium high and stir in egg noodles, if using.  Cook five minutes.  Stir in broccoli and carrots.  Cook one more minute.  Stir in chicken, mushrooms and spinach and cook until heated through (about one more minute).  Vegetables should now be just barely cooked and still slightly crisp.  Adjust seasonings and serve immediately.