Zuppa di Lenticchie

Italians serve lentils at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve because the small, round legumes resemble coins. This is superstition, of course, but it is superstition rooted in wisdom: lentils are humble, nourishing, and satisfying in a way that no extravagant dish can match. After a night of celebration, this soup restores.

The foundation is soffritto, as it must be. Onion, carrot, and celery cooked slowly in good olive oil until they surrender their raw edges and become something silken. A whisper of tomato paste, not enough to make it a tomato soup, just enough to give depth and color. Garlic, restrained. Two cloves, sliced thin, cooked briefly. This is not the place for garlic to announce itself.

In Emilia-Romagna, where I grew up, lentil soup is served alongside cotechino, the rich pork sausage that is itself a New Year's tradition. The lentils absorb the fat from the sausage, and together they make a meal that sees you through a cold January night. The soup is excellent on its own. With cotechino, it becomes a celebration.