Life-Saving Red Lentil Soup

This classic Turkish red lentil soup is a handful of lentils, a carrot, a potato and an onion. You sweat the whole bunch in a pressure-cooker until it mashes, then puree it with an immersion blender and eventually thicken with a roux. How special does it get? Well, this soup has rescued me more than once.

The power of this simple soup is in the familiarity: unlike its versatile brother, another popular Turkish red lentil soup, mercimek çorbası always tastes the same. At home, at a neighborhood kebabçi keeping a piping hot pot ready from the early morning for those who like to start their day on a warm and substaintial note, at a family-run canteen serving lunch, at a trendy cafe bringing the classics back on the plates of young and hip eaters. The world may start collapsing in front of your eyes, but you would be in the safe harbor as long as you have a bowl of mercimek çorbası on your table.

When I decided to move to Istanbul, my arrival was a misery. After visiting the city 5 times and traveling the world extensively, I had managed to put myself in a classic tourist trap. I hoped to stay at a friend’s place for the couple of days until I find a flat. I never heard back from that friend, and last minute I booked a hotel. I arrived to the door of what looked like a major reconstruction project rather than an establishment waiting for the guests. It was the last week of the year, low season and a convenient time to launch a renovation. Only that the hotel folks forgot to notify the booking.com. Needless to say, a resourceful receptionist was quick to comfort me and usher into a nearby hotel, that according to him was exactly the same, which of course it was not. With a heavy suitcase and without any desire to argue I accepted the replacement.

My new hotel was the strangest place I have stayed in my entire post-backpacking life. Lots of people hanging out at the reception and only few guests. Next day I found the lock on my suitcase (in which I brought some essential possessions) broken, but still not open. I had to source a small saw to cut the lock and reach my belongings. How is that for the glorious beginning of my Istanbul life?

Even in the moments of great despair I get hungry around the lunch time: midday meal is sacred, and no drama can take it away from me. My hunger interrupted the chain of the frustrating thoughts, and I asked the resourceful receptionist to order in mercimek çorbası for me. Ability to order in - almost anything, almost anywhere in Istanbul - is almost as wonderful as the mercimek çorbası itself. Not in the mood to face the city and its people? Let the soup arrive to your door. And it did with a basket of bread, lemon wedges and branded wet tissues of the restaurant that sent it. With every spoon of the velvety soup, I felt less intimidated by the whole situation I found myself in. Degree of familiarity increased, and my frustration loosened. Soon a phone rang, and a long-lost friend was ready to host me. I did not even need to resort to her hospitality any more as that very night I sealed the deal about the flat I was going to move in.

I recalled my dramatic arrival to Istanbul over another bowl of mercimek çorbası in December. This time I found myself sitting at a family-run roadside eatery in Adapazarı, a place I would probably never walk in otherwise. However the circumstances made me worship the eatery: it was the only real food establishment in the vicinity of the hospital where my husband was staying. In fact, he was there twice - first for the surgery and then for the treatment of the post-surgery complications.

First time he had a private room where I could accompany him and sleep on a rock-hard sofa. Besides the overall conveniences and even luxuries we enjoyed, the hospitable food was inedible: my experienced mother-in-law would tell me to “thrown in some carbohydrate” meaning the hospital soup because that substance was hardly a soup as we know it. As Özgür was getting his nutrition from the drip, I was surviving on the fruits I brought, the Circassian cheese made by Nariman Teyze and a wholewheat bread procured by my mother-in-law. Once a day I was going out for linden tea to the shop selling properly brewed tea, freshly baked buns and packaged cookies. Being on this diet and seeing my husband in pain probably explains why I soon fainted.

I think I was too shocked by the whole happening to look our for the real food around. When Özgür was urgently hospitalized due to the relapse, he felt no big pain and had 4 roommates to chat with. I stayed with him during the day, reading, chatting and ferrying the trays of tea from outside to his comrades and their companions. On one of the tea sallies I went around and spotted a place with a sign “Lahmacun, pide, çorba” and wowed to check it for lunch. After the bananas, cheese, bread and such I would give anything for soup! I did not care much about how it was going to be because it had to be better than the “carbohydrate” at the hospital.

I entered and saw a neat setup of a local canteen to the left and a wood-fired oven to the right. I asked if they had a soup, and my world collapsed as I heard the heart-breaking “unfortunately” (you rarely hear somebody saying no on your face in Turkey). As I left the place, I heard the opening door and a man saying, “Hanımeffendi, we’ll have the soup ready in a bit”. I said, “Ok, I am back in 10″. “We are waiting for you”, the man confirmed.

When I got back a bowl of piping hot mercimek çorbası and a basket of freshly oven-baked flatbread materialized at the table. At that moment it tasted like the best soup in the world! While going through the bowl I was becoming more and more confident that my husband would be getting better and my whole life would be coming back in order soon. Before leaving I thanked the bewildered cooks for their “life-saving soup” and made a note to myself to share the recipe with you: when things don’t work out in your favor, at least you would know what to do.

Red Lentil Soup (Mercimek Çorbası)

The recipe is a classic, only the toasted sunflower seeds is my addition: I quite like adding a crunch to the creamy soups like this one, and tossing in buttery seeds is a great way to do so. If I were a thrifty home cook feeding a crowd (or a unsavory Istanbul canteen) I would have probably added a bit more flour and water than specified in the recipe to stretch the soup, but I don’t see such a need.

Serves 4-6

Prep time: 5 min
Cook time: 40 min in a pressure cooker or 1 h 10 min in a regular pot
Total time: 45 min to 1 H 15 Min

Ingredients

1 cup red lentils, washed and drained
1 medium potato, peeled, washed and cut into 1 inch / 2.5 cm dices
1 medium carrot, thoroughly washed and cut into 1 inch / 2.5 cm dices
1 medium onion, peeled and cut into 1 inch / 2.5 cm dices
6 cups water
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp fine sea salt
4 tbsp butter
2 tsp all-purpose flour
dry mint, for serving
red pepper flakes, for serving
1/4 cup toasted sunflower seeds, for serving (optional)
melted butter / olive oil, for serving

Directions

Place the red lentils, diced potato, carrot and onion in a pressure cooker. Pour over 6 cups water, close the pressure cooker tightly, bring to a simmer, reduce the heat to a minimum and cook for 30 min. Release all the steam before removing the lid. If not using a pressure cooker, cook the lentils and vegetables in a pot with a tightly fitting lead for 50-60 min, until the lentils turn into a smooth puree. Once done, remove from the heat, add cumin and sea salt. With an immersion blender puree the soup into the homogeneous creamy texture without any lumps.

In a small pan melt the butter in the medium heat and once it starts sizzling stir in the flour. Continue stirring as the roux changes its color from golden to light caramel. At the roux starts browning slightly (after about 2 min), pour it in the soup and stir with the blender. Place the soup pot on the stove, bring to a simmer and let cook for 2-3 minutes on a low heat to let the flour thicken the soup into its comforting velvety state.

Serve immediately, sprinkled with the dry mint, red pepper flakes, toasted sunflower seeds and drizzled with a bit of melted butter / olive oil. You can also temper it with infused butter like here. After being refrigerated overnight the soup thickens; you might want to add a bit of water when reheating it.