feast.

Boy bait soup

Let’s just get this out of the way: this is not a pretty soup. It’s a mauvey taupe, roughly the color of standard-issue hospital food trays. It’s not smooth and creamy, nor is it a clear, refreshing broth. Instead, it’s a murky, lumpy, funky-looking sludge. It is in no way sexy, and yet, I think it’s how I won over my ex-boyfriend. So, it has that going for it. This soup is also effin’ delicious. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be crass, but there’s really no other way to put it. Yes, friends, this is my favorite soup — and not just because it’s boyfriend-winning. (If it were boyfriend-keeping, that may be another matter …) It is my favorite soup because it warming, hearty, delectable, and totally satisfying.

When I first arrived in Paris, I stayed with family friends for a week until I found my own place. Every evening, Michele, the wife, would prepare a simple, homey, French meal, and I would dine with the couple. One evening, Michele made a lentil dish with cloves, carrots, and shallots, and it was a revelation. Completely unattractive and bland-looking on the plate, it made my tongue dance, and I immediately tried to recreate it in my own Parisian kitchen. In my recipe research, I came across the recipe for this soup on the Parisienne-authored blog Chocolate & Zucchini. Having never cooked with chestnuts, I was further intrigued. In the U.S.,chestnuts are reduced to holiday fare, and if you’re lucky, street vendors, but in France, they’re used quite commonly. There, I would buy them cooked, shelled, and frozen in pound-plus bags at Picard, the all-frozen supermarket—it’s like Trader Joe’s but French and Frozen.

This soup is completely deceptive. There are not many ingredients and it will always look wrong. Before you add the cream and blend the soup, it will look completely wrong—too watery and chunky, and possibly foamy. It will look worse immediately after adding the cream— but don’t worry, the cream will melt and blend, and not just hover awkwardly as it does initially. Once you blend this, it’ll look a little better, though I have no suggestions on how to improve its horrible bathmat color. Once you taste it, however, this soup will undergo a magical transformation and you will start to see with your tongue instead of your eyes. You’ll see that this soup is fantastic, and who knows, maybe you too will fall in love with a lentil or even catch a boy.

Lentil chestnut soup
Adapted from Chocolate & Zucchini.

• 1 Tablespoon olive oil
• 1 large onion, diced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 teaspoons dried thyme
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 vegetable bouillion cube (I like Rapunzel)
• 1 cup de Puy (French green) lentils
• salt and freshly ground pepper
• 8 oz chestnuts (freshly roasted or from vacuum pack, not canned)
• 2 Tablespoons crème fraiche or whole milk Greek yogurt
• 1 Tablespoon honey

In a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add onions and cook until translucent, about 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook until slightly browned and fragrant. Add herbs, boullion cube, and lentils and stir together. Add 6 cups water and season lightly with salt. Bring heat to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Add chestnuts and simmer and additional 15 minutes. When lentils and chestnuts are soft, stir in crème fraiche (or yogurt) and honey. Stir until cream (or yogurt) has melted and has blended well into soup. Adjust seasoning as necessary; I like a lot of pepper. Carefully transfer half of the soup to a blender or food processor and purée until smooth. Alternately, you can use an immersion blender, or, if you’re me in France and lacking small appliances, the back of a wooden spoon smashed against the side of the soup pot.

Serves 4 to 6.