lentil loaf

Ah, yes. Another morning, ripe off the vine. It's certainly not turkey day yet, but I can almost smell the sweet stench of it in the air, wafting in from the outside world. Nauseating.

As the big day inches closer, I think it's appropriate to start taking a step back, getting into the spirit of the season, and counting all of the blessings we're thankful for in our every day lives. For example, I recently struck gold while rummaging for a pair of scissors in the top drawer of my desk at home - my hand bumped into something strangely soft and plush out of sight near the back, and when I pulled it out, I found a forgotten purse with at least six old weed cartridges stowed away in it, just begging to be melted over the stove. That's a real-life holiday miracle, folks. I'm a sick woman.

Something else I'm grateful for? Lentils, all day, every day. Our next dish in celebration of the atrocity that is T-Week: the main course. A proper seasonal roast, with all of the fixin's.

one half of a cup of lentils

one half of a cup of vegetable broth

one quarter of a chopped onion

one tablespoon of sage

one tablespoon of rosemary

one tablespoon of thyme

one clove of garlic

one tablespoon of salt

one tablespoon of pepper

one teaspoon of tomato paste

one quarter of a cup of corn flour

I lied, you guys are going to notice a suspicious lack of fixin's here today. This was my first time throwing one of these bad boys together. I didn't want to spread myself out too thin.

Here are my beloved legumes, bubbling away. They're already quite far along, but considering how often we do this song and dance around here I can only assume that you'll be able to look at the ingredient list and infer how we got here. It's been a while since I've had to say this, but I'm not your fucking mom.

I loved this recipe right from the get-go because as soon as those herbs hit the water, I already knew I had won the day. The aroma was absolutely intoxicating; it was everything delicious about the holidays, without a single speck of bird. Sometimes life isn't so bad.

After a solid forty-five minutes over the flame, they were tender, perfect, and ready to mingle with a mysterious new lover. I dumped them into a mixing bowl with the flour and stirred until they formed a vaguely beef-like dough. With the exception of a few stubborn lentils who refused to be broken down into the loaf fully, this stuff turned out shockingly similar to ground meat in terms of texture. These lentils literally cost me thirty cents.

Biggest regret? The fact that while I was shopping for this recipe I cheaped out like an idiot and didn't buy a new bottle of Heinz 57 chili sauce to make a glaze for the top. I'm looking at this photo now and still feeling every bit as bitter as I did on the day I made the thing. It turned out delicious, don't get me wrong. But it could have been so much more.

Preheat your oven to 350°. Stick the loaf in for anywhere from thirty to forty-five minutes or until the top starts to wake the hell up.

Can you feel the glare from the overbearing reflector I have shooting some heat into this thing from off to the side? God, that's fucking foul. I was racing against the sun on this particular day. We do what we can here in the pinkbelly kitchen. My own technical incompetence aside, though, this entrée came out incredible; a bit dry on top, sure, but that's nothing a little lubrication can't cure. In terms of seasonally-inspired flavor, though, it can't be beat. This thing really does pack a punch.

Slice it down with a serrated knife - it looks just like a real meatloaf on the inside. I honestly don't know why carnivores bother with murder, when there are so many vegan ways to celebrate the unnatural death of millions. Mother Nature gave us everything we need, right here, straight from her bountiful bosom.