'self-indulgent emo kids with lentils' - not a larry david-produced sitcom.

Sometimes - and it's not, like, this big thing - but sometimes, you just need a week to fall apart. When the house is empty, and the huge, looming, beautiful stress-ball of a best friend's wedding has passed, and you take a couple of deep breaths, and everything that you've been straining to exhaustion to keep out of your brain for the past few months comes crashing in from the moment you walk in the door after your trip. And you just go for it. You let it come. You poke at it like a bruise, and pick at it like a scab, and questions that have been chewing on your brainstem for months, you grab them by the shoulders and let them scream into your face, scream right back, wrestling broken-hipped with realities like it's so much harder to be back in Florida than I ever thought it would be, and where is God, what do I really think, should I say it out loud, I lose if I don't, and I lose if I do, and I am so tired of losing people, and for as many times as you've heard the phrase "stalking can affect every aspect of your life for years down the road, emotionally/mentally, socially, professionally, financially, even parts of your life that you never thought would be affected" - it is so fetal-position true. Oh, my god, is it true. 

This has nothing to do with lentils and everything to do with pear upside-down cake, the recipe for which I cannot give you. I'm horrible for teasing you, I know.

But here I am. And the script goes like this: 

I'm actually doing so much better than I could be. 

And this situation, to my knowledge, has resolved so much better than it could have. 

I'm doing a little worse than I want to be. 

I'm probably right where I should be. 

I'm so very grateful. And so lucky. 

I just wish I could get a grip on it. Wish I could distill it down to a two-sentence disclaimer for whenever it has to be addressed - smooth enough so as not to make the listener feel your angst, and succinct enough so as to not invite further discussion. Just part of life. 

I hate it. 

And yet, here I sit, writing about it, for you poor, fine folks who are shifting uncomfortably in your chairs because you're just here for the food. 

Have some lentils, emo kid. 

This is probably my favorite lentil dish in the entire world. There's nothing fancy about it at all; it's just a good, solid, full, warm, comforting dish, for the weeks when you fall apart a little. You don't have to dice your stuff as finely; sometimes, I just feel the need to chop things into tiny, tiny pieces, just because I can. Even though I don't do it nearly as well as I once did. 

Creamy Lentils with Greens
(I think I adapted this from a school recipe, but I can't really remember. Probably did.)

1 cup French lentils (pick through them to be sure there are no stones)

2 slices bacon, chopped

1/3 cup EACH diced carrot, celery, onion, and leek

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 1/2 cups stock (I've used chicken and vegetable, with good results)

1/2 cup cream

1 bay leaf

3 whole cloves

2 tbsp. red wine vinegar

2 tbsp. honey

Salt and pepper

Greens (arugula + spinach is my favorite with this)

Tomatoes, as desired

Place the bacon in a cold, medium-sized pot, and place over medium heat. Cook slowly, stirring occasionally, until bacon has released most of its fat and is crispy, about 20 minutes. 

Add your lentils and veggies and cook 3-4 minutes, stirring occasionally. 

Add stock, cream, cloves, and bay leaves. Bring to a simmer, reduce heat to low, cover, and cook until lentils are tender, about 45 minutes. (Start checking them for tenderness around the 30-minute mark, and add more stock or some water if necessary.)

Remove from heat, and remove cloves and bay leaf. Stir in vinegar, honey, salt, and pepper. Serve over greens with tomatoes. 

Don't use spring mix with these lentils. It was gross.