Lentils

Kate asked me to post about lentils. Coincidentally, I recently shared my favorite lentil soup recipe with a friend, and she wondered, "Why are lentils always a punchline to jokes about vegetarian food?"

I think lentils have a bad reputation for several reasons. One is the association with vegetarians -- lentils share this burden with tofu and eggplant. Second, lentils are associated with goldanged furriners; closely related is an association with poverty. Just like you can't read an early twentieth century novel's description of a tenement without the obligatory smell of stale cabbage, you can't read anything about cutting your grocery bill without a mention of beans/lentils and rice. And thirdly (I think -- I've lost track,) most lentils do not plate prettily. I have read that puy lentils and beluga lentils keep their shape through cooking, but since I live about two hours from any place that supplies such a thing, I don't know. I rely on commonplace brown lentils and the enormous bags of red lentils my beloved Cabana Boy brings me from The Big City; and both those varieties cook up -- well -- they have lovely personalities. Also, they are fucking delicious.

Besides the deliciousness and the cheap-as-fuck-ness, lentils have two other lovely qualities. One is that they cook up in thirty minutes or less, no soaking or bullshit (although you might want to eyeball the little fuckers for rocks or whatever -- I have found a few pebbles mixed in.) The other is that lentils lack the chemical flirbberigibiticide that makes you fart. What else do you want, a fucking letter of introduction?

One of my fave soups utilizes brown lentils. This has a certain Mediterranean flair, except for the sweet potatoes. If the sweet potatoes offend your sense of culinary authenticity, I suggest you leave them out  fuck right off to another blog.

Somewhat Mediterranean Lentil Soup

The next recipe is totally different, has an Asian flavor profile, and is vegan -- wait, come back. If "vegan" makes you nervous, use chicken broth instead. However, I have served this soup to many a dedicated carnivore and the only person who didn't like it was my father, whose food issues are many and varied (Side note: until I was 14 or so, I had no idea that other families did not always serve pork and beans with their pizza, because we always did, because my dad is weird.)

Red Lentil Coconut World Domination Soup

Last of all, this is not a recipe, but an idea. My kid has a lot of sensory issues, and food texture is a big one. Beans are among the worst things for him because of the kind of pasty texture. However, I tried the following recipe from one of my absolute favorite food blogs, and it worked. And this is a great idea for a couple of reasons -- not only does it stretch out the meat, which is typically the most expensive ingredient, but it supplies some extra fiber, which can be very nice for anyone whose menu is limited. Plus, he totally fell for it, and got seconds. Sing song voice: kid tested, mama approved. 

Red Lentil Coconut Soup

I would give proper credit for this soup if I could, because it is so awesome. I got it from a long-ago Internet friend who vanished; she might have gotten it from Weight Watchers, but I really don't know. Here is my take.

2 Tbs vegetable oil
2 medium onions, chopped (2 cups)
garlic to your threshold. I always at least double the garlic, so I am not a reliable guide.
1 inch piece fresh ginger, minced (or a squeeze from the fabulous tube of minced garlic I scored at the local Wally World. I know it sounds awful, but I hate grating ginger, and any ginger root of size will go furry in my fridge.)
1 Tbs curry powder, preferably hot
1 cup red lentils
3 medium carrots, peeled and roughly chopped (1 cup)
14-oz. can light coconut milk (or regular)

1/4 cup minced cilantro
 
Heat 2Tbs oil over medium heat. Add onions, and cook, stirring often, until onions start to brown, about 10 minutes. Add ginger, garlic, and curry powder and stir for 30 seconds.  Add 4 cups water, lentils, carrots, and coconut milk. Cover, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer. partially covered, until lentils are tender, about 20 minutes.

In food processor or blender, puree soup in batches until smooth. Taste, and add more salt if desired. Serve hot.

Somewhat Mediterranean Lentil Soup

Somewhat Mediterranean Lentil Soup

1 cup brown lentils (check them over for tiny rocks)
1/4 cup olive oil
1 diced onion
minced garlic, to your garlic threshold. I think this soup should knock out vampires at twenty paces.
1 peeled, diced sweet potato
1 package frozen spinach (thawed, with excess moisture squeezed out)  or equivalent fresh (you're on your own, and why are you using fresh spinach in a soup? I am not angry, but I am very disappointed.)
1 lemon
salt and pepper to taste
about a quart of water; you may add more
(optional vegetarian bouillon cube)  

Start with the olive oil and saute the onion. Get it nice and translucent, and at the very end, add the garlic. Give it a good stir and add the water, the lentils, the optional cube, and the sweet potato. Bring it to a boil, then down to a bubbly simmer. At twenty-five minutes, check both the water and the sweet potato. The mixture should be soupy, and the sweet potatoes should be tender. You may have to add more water and increase the time for this. When sweet potatoes are done, or close to done, add the thawed spinach, and allow everything to come up to temperature. Finish with a nice strong squeeze of lemon juice.

You could garnish this with a dollop of plain Greek yogurt, or a sprinkle of feta cheese.

Why bother with thrift? There's more reasons than saving money.

One of the things I fucking hate about talking about this shit is when someone who is making a decent salary and so on looks at me like I have three eyes and says "well, I can buy it."

Yes, yes you can.  BUT.   I've found over time there's a bunch of reasons to make your own cleaners and laundry detergent and etc, given that cheaper is cheaper.

Convenience:   With about ten basic ingredients, I can make any cleaner I might need in my house at any time.  There is no "I can't do laundry until I get to the supermarket and get laundry detergent"-- I can make a 5 gallon bucket,  and even then it takes me less than half an hour to make the stuff.  I live in the boonies.  NOT driving 20 minutes to a store is a big savings in my time.

Hypoallergenic:   My husband is allergic to the planet.  Often the cheaper alternative is also the one less likely to make him bitch itch.

Works better:  Yup.  It does.

Theoretically, money for other things:   I'll let you know when I get there.  But in the meantime we can at least eat.

Creativity:  Since taking on a thrifty lifestyle, I never look at what something is.  I look at what it could be.  If the coffee table doesn't work as a coffee table, it could be a bench.  Or a lift to get something off a wet basement floor.  A dress is not a dress, it's a potential skirt and top.   It really has changed my thinking.

--Kate

Counter Surfing the Dirty Water Tide

Kate's Spray Cleaner

You know, the stuff you use like Formula 409 because EVERY OTHER PERSON IN YOUR HOUSE IS A SLOB AND I AM LOOKING AT YOU, DOG not to mention the other twofooter in the house sloshes coffee everywhere but I'm having a be nice to my husband week

Spray bottle
half vinegar
half water
capful of CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP shampoo--the kind you look at in the dollar store and wonder if it's going to eat through the bottle right there
some lemon or orange essential oil, if you must.

Shake up in spray bottle, and clean up the coffee on the counter.

Kate's Faux Shahi Paneer

Because, yeah.  I love Indian food, and eating out every night so is not in the budget.  Not when there is kibble to be bought for the furkids who are, after all, much more important.


(I usually make tomato sauce in bulk, but I'm assuming not everyone does that.  Use about 3 cups of your bulk tomato sauce or use this.)

1 package fry-able cheese (I usually use Queso Blanco or Queso Fresco)
2 cans diced tomatoes
1 can pureed tomatoes
 dried onions or fresh diced onions
1/2--1 cup milk

Spices:
tumeric
garlic
cumin
garam masala
whatever else smells good

Optional:
your favorite veggies (broccoli, cauliflower, snap peas.... )
cashews
raisins

Slice the cheese into chunks and lightly brown in a fry pan with the onion.  When it's nicely browned, dump over the tomatoes and dump in the spices and the milk.  I use half garam masala-- half everything else. Turn heat to low.   Let it simmer while the rice cooks.

Serve over brown or white basmati rice

HE-friendly homemade laundry detergent

The bad news: you don't get to make Flubber.

The good news: this actually takes a step out of my very easy regular laundry detergent, and it takes less storage space.

Equipment -- a largish container -- some plastic something or other. From painful experience, I would not use a recycled plastic coffee container unless you are a) totally sure the coffee smell is gone, or b) don't mind smelling like a soap latte.

A grater, like you would use for cheese. 


Ingredients: 1 bar of soap (nothing deodorant or moisturizing; I like Dr. Bronner's or Ivory)
1 cup of Borax
1 cup of washing soda (also labeled as super washing soda or laundry soda)

Borax and washing soda are usually found in Wal Marts or large grocery stores, but may be on bottom shelves or squirreled away. You'll only use a fraction of each box for this recipe.

Grate your soap. Add the other stuff. Stir. Use one tablespoonful per large load. Spend your savings on hookers and blow.

The Vicious Spin Cycle

Laundry is actually how we (Kate and I) started this blog. I went looking for recipes for homemade laundry detergent for HE washers. I looked. I looked.

Then I poured a glass of wine and messaged Kate thusly: I am sick of wading through all these super-fundy sites to get my fucking laundry detergent recipe.

I don't have anything against Christians -- I just don't feel like plowing through sites that are SUPER SUPER BLESSED and HEY LOOK AT OUR QUIVERFUL OF CHILDREN. And somehow, a lot of thrifty sites are also very overtly Christian.

However, heathens love a bargain too! So after Kate and I bitched over chat for a bit, we conceived Misfit Thrift -- thrifty deals for anyone, with scarcely a deity invoked.

So, laundry. Where was I? Back in my old house, I had a crappy little non-HE washer, and I learned to make detergent for it. Before you click away, convinced I am a crazy person who is thrifty like "spin your dryer lint into yarn," or start my recipes with, "First, grind your wheat" -- I am a very lazy thrifty person. I don't coupon because that looks like another job.

But laundry detergent is so fucking easy, and crazy cheap. I'll start with the non-HE recipe. HE-friendly is over here. Assuming you have a big pot and a grater, your major equipment investment will be a 5 gallon bucket with a lid. I think mine was about $5 at Lowes. (Aside: You know that thing bloggers do, where they verify exact prices, and break down the cost of ingredients/usage? I am not only lazy, but I suck at math.)

Assemble ingredients:
a regular-sized bar of soap like Dr. Bronner's or Ivory -- you don't want anything deodorant or moisturizing
1 cup Borax
1 cup washing soda (not baking soda -- this is labeled as washing/super washing/laundry soda)
6 cups water (you'll add more water later, but we'll get to that)
totally optional drops of an essential oil that you know doesn't irritate your housemates or pets

Note: Borax and washing soda are found in many grocery stores and WalMart; often they are found on bottom shelves or kind of tucked away. One box of each will make several batches of detergent.

Grate your soap. Once done, you've finished the most labor intensive part.

Heat your 6 cups of water, and add the soap. Stir until it melts. Note: don't boil the water, especially after you add the soap, unless you feel like doing a live re-enactment of an I Love Lucy Episode.

Add the Borax and washing soda. Stir to dissolve. Add your optional essential oil. Add seven more quarts of very hot tap water (or water you've heated on the stove separately -- but why would you do that?) Stir everything well, then pour into your bucket. The mixture will gell as it cools, and that's fun because it's like you're making Flubber.

Use 1/2 a cup per large load of laundry. 

Now, you know how I don't do math? Even a non-person like myself can see that I spent less than ten dollars for 5 gallons of detergent, which I will use one 1/2 cup at a time, plus I have plenty left of the Borax and washing soda. Divide the quotient with curly math, find the cube root of rutabaga, and that's a bargain. Plus your detergent can simply smell like clean stuff, or lavender, or whatever you like -- not gross laboratory "lavender fields."

So this is what I am about -- minimal effort (grate soap, melt some shit) and maximum result. Also, I curse a lot. Maybe Kate can wash out my mouth with her homemade soap.