{"id":1501,"date":"2007-04-03T04:27:00","date_gmt":"2007-04-03T04:27:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2007\/04\/03\/consolation-prize"},"modified":"2007-04-03T04:27:00","modified_gmt":"2007-04-03T04:27:00","slug":"consolation-prize","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2007\/04\/consolation-prize\/","title":{"rendered":"Consolation prize"},"content":{"rendered":"
Oh people<\/span>. What a time I\u2019ve had.<\/p>\n So, remember that fresh coconut pie<\/a> I mentioned last week? The one I recalled so fondly ten full years<\/span> after first tasting it? The one that you begged to hear more about? Well, I called my mom, and I got the recipe. Then I bought a coconut. Then, yesterday morning, Brandon and I drained, cracked, chipped, peeled, and grated the thing, a task only marginally easier than breaking into an armored truck. Then, after sufficient rest and recuperation, I made the pie. And it wasn\u2019t very good.<\/p>\n Even now, a day later, I still feel sort of sad. I hardly know what to say. In the pie\u2019s defense, I think we grated the coconut a little too coarsely. We did it in the food processor, with the grating blade, and the resulting shards were on the thick side \u2013 less like standard shredded coconut and more, let\u2019s say, like those jumbo matches, the long, fat kind you\u2019d use to light a gas stove or grill. Consequently, the coconut never really cooked<\/span> in the oven. It wilted a little, but that\u2019s about it. The finished pie tasted alright, but it had an odd, starchy crunch that reminded me of Swiss chard stems, and soggy twigs, and undercooked potatoes. None of which, I should note, makes a nice dessert. It wasn\u2019t awful, but it was<\/span> wonky. You know it\u2019s bad when you prefer a pot of lentil soup to a slice of coconut pie. Seriously.<\/p>\n But all\u2019s well that ends well, as they say, which brings us, for better and for worse, to this week\u2019s recipe. I know it\u2019s kind of crappy of me to give you yet another<\/span> lentil dish, but I didn\u2019t set out intending to, I swear. Blame the pie, not me. Anyway, it\u2019s a very good recipe \u2013 and with coconut, no less! \u2013 so I hope you\u2019ll find it in your heart to forgive me.<\/p>\n A couple of weeks ago, back when we were talking about lentils and rice and onions<\/a> around here, Julie<\/a> wrote to tell me about a soup she\u2019d made, a green lentil soup with Indian spicing from the cookbook Once Upon a Tart<\/span>. I was very intrigued \u2013 not only because of the bottomless supply of lentils in my pantry closet, but because a copy of that same cookbook had been sitting on my shelf, ignored, for years. I\u2019m not sure why, either, because Once Upon a Tart, the bakery that birthed the book, is a lovely little spot, a place where I once shared soup and scones with my mother and father and sister on a chilly late-December afternoon in New York. The book was long overdue for a little attention, and a good, healthy crack of the spine. So, with a nudge from Julie, that\u2019s what I gave it, and in return, it gave me a very, very good soup.<\/p>\n The only thing it lacks, I\u2019m afraid, is looks. I tried to spare you by eating most of it before the photo shoot, but still, it\u2019s not pretty. Lentil soup is not something to make when you want a handsome meal. It\u2019s something to make when you want a satisfying one, along with, say, a cold beer<\/a>, some crusty bread, and a few Muscat grapes<\/a> from the icebox. This particular take on the lentil theme is unusually good, one for the keeper pile. For a homely thing, it\u2019s almost delicate \u2013 elegant, even, trailing a lacy perfume of spices and coconut milk, a whiff of India and a slip of Thailand. It reminds me in some ways of dal, but better than any I\u2019ve made at home, and with a Southeast Asian bent. And until I can have my coconut pie the way I remember it \u2013 which, with some tweaking, damn it, had better be soon \u2013 well, it\u2019s a pretty darn good consolation prize.<\/p>\n ___<\/p>\n Also, I know that many of you have seen me and Brandon on the Food Network recently, and before another day goes by, I wanted to thank you for writing to me with your cheers. Pretty crazy, isn\u2019t it? Our video is part of a series of short promotional segments called \u201cThe Power of Food,\u201d in which everyday people share stories about the ways that food impacts their lives. In our case, we tell the story of how we met \u2013 through this website<\/a>, of course, but more specifically, because a friend of Brandon\u2019s did an Internet search for a lemon yogurt cake<\/a> recipe, came upon Orangette, read for a while, and then told him about it, saying, \u201cI\u2019ve found the woman for you.\u201d As it turns out, she was right, and the rest, as they say, is history. Sometimes I can hardly wrap my head around it. Cake is a powerful thing. I\u2019m telling you, never, ever<\/span> underestimate what it can do.<\/p>\n Our segment airs during commercial breaks, so be on the lookout between ads and you just might see us. A longer version of the video We hope you like our story as much as we like living it. Thank you for being a part of it.<\/p>\n Green Lentil Soup with Coconut Milk and Warm Spices<\/span> If you\u2019ve got some decent vegetable stock lying around, this thick, warming soup comes together in a snap. It\u2019s delicious eaten plain, but I also like it with a squeeze of lime, and Brandon, Mr. Hot Sauce, likes it with sambal oelek<\/a>. It would also be lovely over some fragrant rice, maybe jasmine or basmati, and with some cilantro sprinkled around. If you\u2019d like to see how Julie, who first told me about this recipe, makes this soup, hop over to her thoughtful write-up here<\/a>.<\/p>\n Also, about the butter: if you want to use less, I think you could. I haven\u2019t tried it yet, but I\u2019ll bet it wouldn\u2019t make a wink of difference, flavor-wise, if you added all the spices in the beginning, with the garlic, rather than adding some then and some later. That way, you could nix the clarified butter \u2013 a bit of a fussy step, anyway \u2013 and scratch three tablespoons of butter from the recipe.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
will be online soon<\/s> is available online, and you can watch it here<\/a>. <\/span>(And no jokes about that funny blinking I was doing, okay? <\/span>I was nervous<\/span>.) <\/p>\n
Adapted from Once Upon a Tart<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n