I've made this vegan lentil soup 60+ times and I'll make it 60 more

There's a pot on my stove right now. It's the same pot I've used nearly every Sunday evening for the past two years, and it's filled with the same soup I've made more times than I can accurately count. Sixty feels like a conservative estimate.

When I left finance at 36, I had to relearn how to feed myself. Not literally, of course. But after years of grabbing whatever was fast between meetings, I'd lost touch with the simple act of cooking something nourishing.

This lentil soup became my teacher. It's forgiving, flexible, and impossibly satisfying. It's the meal I make when I need grounding, when I'm meal prepping for a busy week, or when Marcus and I want something warm after a long trail run.

Why this soup works

I'm not a chef. I approach cooking the way I used to approach spreadsheets: I want to understand why something works, not just follow instructions blindly. This soup works because lentils are nutritionally dense, affordable, and don't require soaking.

Red lentils break down into a creamy base while green or brown lentils hold their shape for texture. You can use either, or both.

The aromatics are simple but essential. Onion, garlic, carrots, and celery form a foundation that makes everything taste like home. A good amount of cumin and a touch of smoked paprika give it warmth without overwhelming the earthy lentil flavor.

That's it. No fancy techniques, no hard-to-find ingredients.

The recipe itself

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• 3 carrots, peeled and chopped
• 3 celery stalks, chopped
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 1/2 cups dried lentils (red, green, or a mix)
• 1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes
• 6 cups vegetable broth
• 2 teaspoons cumin
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Juice of 1 lemon
• Fresh parsley or cilantro for serving

Instructions:

1. Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add onion, carrots, and celery. Cook for 6 to 8 minutes until softened.
2. Add garlic, cumin, smoked paprika, and turmeric. Stir for about 30 seconds until fragrant.
3. Add lentils, diced tomatoes, and vegetable broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 25 to 30 minutes until lentils are tender.
4. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in lemon juice just before serving.
5. Serve topped with fresh herbs and a drizzle of olive oil if desired.

What 60 batches have taught me

The first few times I made this soup, I followed the recipe exactly. Then I started experimenting. I've added kale in the last five minutes of cooking. I've stirred in coconut milk for a creamier version. I've doubled the garlic when I felt a cold coming on. I've added a diced sweet potato when I wanted more substance.

Every variation has been good. Some have been exceptional. The soup doesn't punish you for improvising. It rewards curiosity. What ingredients do you already have that might work here? What flavors are you craving this week?

More than just a meal

I think about the version of myself who used to eat lunch at her desk, barely tasting anything.

That woman was efficient but disconnected. Making this soup every week has become a small ritual of reconnection. The chopping is meditative. The simmering fills my apartment with warmth. The leftovers sustain me through busy writing days.

Marcus jokes that he could identify this soup blindfolded. He's probably right. But he still asks for it, still reaches for a second bowl. Some things don't need to be complicated or novel to be meaningful.

Tips from many, many batches

Don't skip the lemon juice. It brightens everything and makes the flavors pop. Add it at the end so it stays fresh. If you want a thicker soup, use an immersion blender to puree half of it, leaving some texture. For meal prep, this soup keeps beautifully in the fridge for five days and freezes well for up to three months.

If you're new to cooking with lentils, start with red ones. They cook faster and create that comforting, almost porridge-like consistency. Green and brown lentils take a bit longer but add a heartier bite.

Final thoughts

I don't know exactly when this soup shifted from something I made to something that's simply part of my life.

Somewhere between batch twenty and batch forty, it stopped being a recipe and became a rhythm. It's the meal I return to when everything else feels uncertain. It's proof that simple things, repeated with care, can become profound. If you make it once and like it, make it again. And again.

Let it become yours.