Lenticchie in Umido

Italians eat lentils at midnight on New Year's Eve because the small, flat legumes resemble coins. Prosperity and good fortune for the year ahead. This is the superstition, and who am I to argue with tradition? But the real reason to cook lenticchie in umido has nothing to do with luck. It has to do with the way properly stewed lentils taste alongside a slice of fatty cotechino, the pork sausage that shares the midnight table.

The cooking is simple but not careless. A proper soffritto, rendered pancetta, bay and sage, a touch of tomato paste. The lentils simmer gently until they are creamy within but still hold their shape. Mushy lentils are a failure. Lentils that rattle on the plate are also a failure. You are looking for that point in between, and you find it by tasting, not by watching the clock.

What you keep out matters as much as what you put in. No garlic cloves minced into the dish. Just two cloves, crushed, cooked briefly, then removed. No herbs fighting for attention. Bay and sage, nothing more. The lentils themselves should taste like lentils, supported by the soffritto but not overwhelmed by it.