This post was created in partnership with the #LetsLentil campaign for Canadian Lentils. All opinions are my own.
It’s not every day I get to go to Saskatoon. Or even say the word Saskatoon. Or watch a summer thunderstorm roll in across the North American prairie, lashing sheets of rain against the skin of the South Saskatchewan River. Or meet a retired farmer on the plane there who offered to sponsor my Canadian citizenship should things go south in the election this year. It’s not everyday I discover a place so entirely unlike any I’ve ever seen before.
And it’s not everyday I get to visit a lentil farm, either. So when Canadian Lentils invited me to come along with them to the Paris of the Prairies—Saskatoon—and take a trip to Aidra Farm, I was extraordinarily excited. They couldn’t have asked a better person: Lentils are one of my kitchen ride-or-dies. I love lentils in veggie burgers. I love lentils with balsamic caramelized onions. And I love lentils in the lentil walnut loaf my mom used to make when I was young, slathered with miso tahini sauce. (Thinking I should give her lentil loaf a whirl for you all sometime soon—what say you?)
So, come July 10th, I let myself be whisked away to Saskatoon. I flew over flatlands and mountains and geometric grids of brightly colored crops: Canary yellow for canola, blue for flax, deep green for peas and lentils. The earth was alive. There was so much land and there were so few buildings. My heart was happy. The moment I could throw down my luggage in my hotel room, I hightailed it to the river.
The South Saskatchewan River is truly majestic, with two bridges arcing across its waters to connect the city, and twenty-one miles of waterfront paths to wander. I spent hours exploring inlets and under-bridges, I saw ducks and lupine flowers and (holy crap) a tiny gardener snake. I stumbled across Shakespeare on the river. I watched the rain-heavy clouds draw closer.
And on the morning of our first day together, as rain soaked the riverbanks, I wiggled into some heavy-duty galoshes (I kind of miss them, to be honest) and began a grand lentil adventure.
Our morning was spent at the Crop Development Center at the University of Saskatchewan, where I saw a mind-blowing number of exquisite lentils and pulses of all kinds. Lentils with such beautiful hues they looked like gemstones. Jade green chickpeas that could have been emeralds. And two exceptionally knowledgeable crop scientists to guide our way.
From there, we jetted over to Aidra Farms in Radisson, where Corey Loessin and his son Aidan showed us a few of their 2000 acres full of canola and peas and, of course, lentils. Between tractor rides and muddy puddle jumping, I got to see my first lentil pods up close, tenderly sprouting from plants that grow to just about a foot above the ground.
After a quick visit to a lentil processing plant that was literally vibrating with the kinetic energy of millions of pulses being cleaned, sorted, and packed for transport around the globe (Canada is the world’s largest supplier of lentils!), we caravanned back to downtown Saskatoon to meet two extraordinary chefs at Ayden Kitchen and Bar.
Chefs Dale MacKay (a Canadian Top Chef winner) and Nathan Guggenheimer are like the Mast Brothers of Canadian cuisine, except they’re not related and their food is one hundred percent true to source—lentils and bison from their proverbial backyards, sausage Guggenheimer cures himself, and (non-edible) beards for days. The two whipped up gorgeous lentil romesco sauce (lentils instead of almonds—brilliant), exquisite cassoulet, and a parmesan and prosciutto-brothed lentil soup better than any I’ve ever had.
Back at home, I spent a solid two weeks dreaming up what lentil goodness to make for you all. In the interim, Molly came to visit and made these spectacular walnut feta kibbeh. So when I decided to whip up some lentil fritters for you all, that kibbeh flavor profile came to mind: Warm yet bright, nutty, and herbaceous. In place of the grain, black Beluga lentils. And I added the tangy sweetness of red wine vinegar-soaked dried currants.
Lentils cook up in no time, and require no soaking prior, which makes them extraordinarily easy to incorporate into the weekly rotation. They’re also dense with fiber, protein, and minerals—perhaps why my mother used them so frequently in our vegetarian diet when I was growing up. I cook mine with scored or slightly crushed garlic for extra flavor, and freeze any leftovers for the next round of lentil love.
These fritters are filled with fresh parsley and mint, and made even heartier with walnuts and eggs. I’ve long loved my lentils with tangy, creamy counterparts, hence packing these fritters with feta and serving them over a bed of fresh mint slaw and cool coriander yogurt.
I’m no frying pro, but as long as you keep the fritter balls small enough (about 1-1 ½ inches in diameter), and pack them tightly, they’re simple as pie. Or easy as fritters?
Heat up some pita, make yourself a sandwich, and get to planning your next lentil-packed meal. And, someday, if you’re in the vicinity, take a trip to this planet’s lentil capital: Saskatoon. Stroll the South Saskatchewan River. Walk the land that makes the lentils and peas and pulses we love so dearly.
LENTIL FETA FRITTERS WITH FRESH MINT SLAW & CORIANDER YOGURT & A LENTIL FARM VISIT IN SASKATOON!
Ingredients
inspired by my name is yeh
- 1 cup uncooked black (Beluga) lentils, or lentil of choice
- 3 cups water or vegetable stock
- 2 cloves large garlic peeled and scored
- ¼ cup dried currants or raisins
- ¼ cup red wine vinegar
- ½ cup finely chopped raw walnuts
- 1 egg + 1 yolk
- ½ cup loosely packed fresh parsley finely chopped
- ½ cup loosely packed fresh mint finely chopped
- ¾ teaspoon ground cumin
- ½ teaspoon ground coriander
- 1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- ½ teaspoons sea salt
- ¼ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
- ½ cup crumbled feta
- 1 cup oil for frying
fresh mint slaw
- 1 cup thinly sliced red cabbage
- ½ cup loosely packed fresh mint chopped
- ½ cup loosely packed fresh parsley chopped
- 2-3 tablespoons juice of ½ medium lemon
- ¼ teaspoon flaky sea salt
- ground pepper to taste
coriander yogurt
- ½ cup plain Greek yogurt labneh, skyr, or other strained yogurt
- ¼ teaspoon ground coriander
- 1 clove small garlic minced
garnish
- thinly sliced cucumber
- fresh mint & parsley
- fresh ground pepper
Instructions
- Rinse lentils. In a medium stockpot, bring uncooked lentils, water or vegetable stock, and garlic to a boil, covered. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 30-35 minutes, until lentils are tender to bite. Remove from heat.
- While lentils cook, place ¼ cup dried currants and ¼ cup red wine vinegar in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer over low heat. Once they simmer, remove from heat and let sit. When ready to use, drain liquid away and roughly chop soaked currants.
- Once lentils are cooked, nestle a fine mesh strainer in a bowl or over the sink, and drain 1 cup cooked lentils of all water, through the strainer. Add 1 cup drained lentils to a mixing bowl, and combine with chopped currants, walnuts, egg and yolk, parsley, mint, spices, salt, and pepper. Stir well to combine entirely, making sure eggs are integrated. Then mix in crumbled feta.
- Roll mixture into 1-1 ½-inch balls and squeeze to compact. Place on paper towel-lined baking sheet.
- Heat 1 cup olive oil in a 12-inch non-stick frying pan or cast iron skillet over medium heat, just until the surface shimmers. Reduce heat slightly, and test one of the fritters, allowing to fry until golden brown before turning over to fry other side. Remove and place back on the paper towel-lined baking sheet to drain. Adjust heat as needed, then repeat with all fritters.
- While they cool, mix slaw ingredients in a bowl. In a separate bowl, mix yogurt, coriander, and minced garlic. Heat pita until soft, and fill with a shmear of yogurt, a layer of slaw, and some fritters. Serve with cucumber and fresh herbs.
