Red Lentil Soup
My daughter Grace acquired this recipe at a potluck after a march to support a Palestinian homeland, so we call it “Peace Lentil Soup;” marching is necessary, because there is so much to be outraged about, but I believe that the basis of peace is eating together. This soup is promising because it is cheap, delicious, and doesn’t involve killing anything. 

Ingredients:

 2 Tbs oil (olive, canola or peanut)
1 onion, chopped (or 1 cup frozen, chopped)
4 garlic cloves, minced
Salt to taste
1/2 tsp ground cumin (more to taste)
1/2 tsp ground coriander (more to taste)
2 tsp curry powder
1 (28-oz) can chopped tomatoes in juice
1 lb red lentils (about 2 cups), washed and picked over
2 qts chicken or vegetable stock (add more liquid if you like a thinner soup)
1/4 tsp ground pepper (more to taste)
Cayenne (optional, to taste)

Step1, Sauté: Heat oil in a large, heavy soup pot over medium heat. Add onion. Cook, stirring, until tender, about 5 minutes.
Add garlic, 1/2 tsp salt, cumin, coriander, curry powder.
Stir together for about a minute until the garlic is fragrant.
Step 2, Stew: Stir in tomatoes with their juice.
Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring often, for 10 minutes, until the tomatoes have cooked down slightly.
Stir in lentils and liquid.
Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer 30 minutes.
Step 3, fiddle a little: Add more salt to taste, if desired, and cook 15-30 minutes more until lentils have fallen apart and thickened the soup.
Using the back of your spoon, mash the lentils against the side of the pot to thicken the soup further.
Add the pepper and cayenne to taste.

Step 4, share it with other people around your table.
Hey, Hipsters: you gotta eat. Have some of your friends over and have soup. One of the most sincere (that means not ironic) things you can do is eat with people in your own house. It is really good with water or iced tea, but especially good with a sweet white wine, a crisp pub cider, or a complex local IPA. The last time I made this, I served it with salads and corn cakes with some sharp, hard cheeses, and the next 3 hours of  conversation were so lively, so lovely that I forgot that I had made dessert.
As always, there may be leftovers for monks, students, et.al.