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    It Isn’t Easy to Be Mitt Romney

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    It’s a wretched time to be an institutionalist in the Republican Party. But it’s a vital time to read about one.The new speaker of the Republican-controlled House of Representatives, Mike Johnson, is an election denier who finds the separation of church and state passé, while his party’s base seems eager to renominate a twice-impeached, four-times-indicted former president for the White House. It is in this era of degraded Republicanism that McKay Coppins has published “Romney: A Reckoning” — a look inside the public life and private misgivings of Willard Mitt Romney, the former governor of Massachusetts, 2012 Republican presidential nominee, current senator from Utah and politician eternally miscast for his time and his party.“You don’t want to be the only one sitting at the table and no one wants to sit with you,” Romney says to Coppins, explaining how he feels during Republican caucus lunches. The feeling has trailed Romney throughout his political life.The easy story to write about Romney today is that of the courageous apostate, the lone Republican senator who voted to convict Donald Trump during his first impeachment trial, the throwback to a vision of a party that barely exists today: fiscally conservative, morally upright, constitutionally conscientious. Washington journalists love tales of party-bucking mavericks, and Romney fits the part. Yet that is not the sole story that Coppins, a staff writer at The Atlantic, has chosen to tell.Instead, he explores the extent to which Romney wrestles with, and intermittently accepts, his role in what the Republican Party has become. When Coppins asks Romney if he would still have taken that courageous vote in Trump’s impeachment trial had the senator been 30 years younger, with many campaigns and elections still ahead of him, Romney demurs. “I don’t know the answer to that,” he admits. “I think I recognize now my capacity to rationalize decisions that are in my self-interest.”It is a memorable distillation of a life in politics, of the tension between high principle and unseemly justification. It’s a tension Romney has navigated better than most, in part for his willingness to acknowledge its existence.Rationalizations appear throughout Romney’s career. One came in 2012, when, as a presidential candidate, he sought and publicly accepted Trump’s endorsement for president, at a time when Trump was a reality-show host promoting the birtherism canard about President Barack Obama. Stepping on a Las Vegas stage with Trump was “one of the more humiliating chores” of Romney’s political life, Coppins writes, but the candidate explained it away as one of those things that politicians do. After all, if Obama could welcome endorsements from Kanye West and Lena Dunham, why couldn’t Romney stand alongside the host of “The Apprentice”? The awkwardness of the meeting was exquisite. “There are some things you just can’t imagine happening,” Romney said in front of the microphone. “This is one of them.”Four years later, during the 2016 presidential primary campaign, Romney delivered a brutal speech at the University of Utah attacking Trump’s policies (“The country would sink into a prolonged recession”), intelligence (“He is very, very not smart”), honesty (“His promises are as worthless as a degree from Trump University”) and character (“Imagine your children and grandchildren acting the way he does”). He almost seemed to enjoy himself, delivering zingers and pausing for laughs as though Trump’s ascent to the White House was one more thing he couldn’t imagine happening. During the race, he also assailed prominent Republicans, like Chris Christie, the former governor of New Jersey and one of the first mainstream party leaders to back Trump. The endorsement “diminishes you morally,” Romney told Christie in an email, and only withdrawing it could “preserve your integrity and character.”Romney also tried to coordinate strategy with Trump’s primary opponents and, once it was clear Trump had secured the nomination, he even hoped to rustle up a third-party candidate. All such efforts are part of a self-perceived family trait that the senator calls the “Romney obligation” — the compulsion to run toward a crisis, whether that means saving the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City from mismanagement and corruption or trying to rescue the 2016 Republican Party from its Trumpian fate.But Coppins raises the inevitable question: “Where was this principled stand when Romney was running for president himself?” Romney’s answer comes off as vaguely dismissive. “Obviously if I did anything to help legitimize him, I regretted it,” he said. That’s a big “if.” Obviously.John Angelillo/UPI, via Associated PressPerhaps, as Coppins suggests, Romney didn’t consider Trump much of a political threat in 2012, just one more bombastic donor to attract and appease. But there was no such excuse four years later, when Romney legitimized Trump yet again, this time shortly after the 2016 election, agreeing to meet with Trump to discuss becoming his secretary of state. After meeting with Trump, Romney even told reporters that he had “increasing hope that President-elect Trump is the very man who can lead us to that better future.” It is hard to reconcile the man who pilloried Trump at the University of Utah earlier that year with the one sitting at dinner with Trump and Reince Priebus at Trump Tower’s Jean-Georges, with a look, as Coppins writes, of “forlorn defeat.”To his credit, Romney fesses up to his mixed motives. “I looked at what was happening in the world, and these were really troubling times,” he said to Coppins, arguing, as many Republicans did at the time, that the country needed serious people in the new administration. But Romney also relished the power and the relevance. “I like being involved and being in the middle of things, and having something important to do,” he said. “If you can’t be president, being secretary of state’s not a bad spot to come thereafter.” Trump wanted Romney to go further and repudiate his earlier attacks against him, but Romney declined. In a recent interview with me, Coppins described the secretary of state dalliance as “the last temptation” for Romney.The earlier temptations emerge well before Trump appears on the scene. As chairman of the Republican Governors Association, Romney traveled the country in 2006 to raise funds for candidates and try out his own message ahead of the primary season. He wanted to talk about jobs, but conservative crowds preferred to talk guns and terrorists and abortion. Romney complied. “When you speak to the N.R.A.,” he told Coppins, “you change your tone. I admit it.… You say the things that make the audience respond positively.”It’s quite a Trumpian approach, though maybe just a political one, too. “A new incentive structure took shape on those stages,” Coppins writes. “A new persona formed.” Soon, Romney began blasting the “death tax” during speeches, for instance, mainly because doing so got a good response. “It was one of those things you say because you don’t know what you’re talking about when you’re first running for president,” he told Coppins, a seemingly banal quote that grows more stunning with each rereading. Romney complains that he is “the authentic person who seems inauthentic,” but moments like those help explain why.There is a certain obliviousness to Romney’s campaigning, especially so during his 2012 presidential run, when the candidate still regarded the Tea Party as merely a movement for fiscal discipline. His campaign strategist, Stuart Stevens (who in the years since has become one of the most vociferous anti-Trumpers and one of the most disillusioned ex-Republicans), harbored no such illusions, telling Romney at the time that the primary was not about policy or ideology but about grievance and tribalism. “The base is southern, evangelical, and populist,” Stevens said. “You’re a Yankee, Mormon, and wealthy. We’re going to have to steal this nomination.”Observers of American politics often marvel that a country that twice elected Barack Obama could then replace him with Donald Trump. But it’s no less remarkable that a Republican Party that nominated Romney in 2012 could then turn around and choose Trump as its standard-bearer in 2016.Maybe Romney did steal the 2012 nomination from the proto-Trump Republican Party, or maybe Trump snatched the 2016 primary from the last gasp of the party establishment, or perhaps both are true. Regardless, Romney and his wife, Ann, were shocked as they watched Trump’s rallies on television, with the crowds “crescendoing to a state of near-delirium that bordered on bloodlust,” Coppins writes. As Ann Romney said to her husband, “Those people weren’t at our events.”Unless they were. In politics, people can be as extreme, or as reasonable, as their options.Damon Winter/The New York TimesCoppins depicts Ann Romney as the pivotal influence in her husband’s life; he is always trying to win and preserve her approval. A close second is his father, George Romney, the governor of Michigan, Republican presidential candidate and Housing and Urban Development secretary in the Nixon administration. “He’s both inspired by and at times haunted by his dad’s legacy,” Coppins told me, and their political careers feature parallels as well as divergences. Mitt’s stand against Trump is reminiscent of George’s opposition to the 1964 nomination of Barry Goldwater, and during the protests following the murder of George Floyd in 2020, Mitt thinks back to his father’s steadfast support for civil rights in the late 1960s, even as urban unrest spread and Richard Nixon peddled law and order.Decades later, Romney remains aggrieved at the news media’s response when his father — in an infelicitous choice of metaphor — complained that he had undergone a “brainwashing” by the government spin about the Vietnam War. The controversy surrounding his use of that term finally derailed George Romney’s presidential aspirations. At the start of his own campaign for the 2008 nomination, Romney gave his senior staff a copy of an 88-page master’s thesis, written in 1969 by a George Romney campaign staffer, describing how his father had gone from front-runner to also-ran. The elder Romney’s crucial political misstep, Coppins writes, was a compulsion to speak his mind and stick to his beliefs, no matter the consequences, even when seeking the nation’s highest office.His son sought to avoid that mistake in his own White House bids. “The one question Romney would struggle to answer — even a decade later — was whether he had been true to himself in his pursuit of the presidency,” Coppins writes. (I hate to say it, but if you can’t settle that question after all those years, maybe you know the answer.) When Romney speaks to student groups these days, Coppins reports, the senator advises them never to trade away their integrity for political gain, and he says it with an air of someone who has lived that trade-off. “It’s not worth it,” he tells them. “Believe me.”Upon joining the Senate in 2019, “Romney finally felt free to follow his father’s example — the way he’d always wanted to — without worrying about the politics.” He knew that voting to convict Trump of abusing the powers of the presidency would marginalize him in the modern Republican Party, and he agonized over the decision; after all, it is one thing to be an outlier, another to be an outcast. (His 2012 running mate, Paul Ryan, a former House speaker, showed his colors by reaching out when he had learned how Romney would vote, not to offer support but to try to talk him out of it.) “My promise before God to apply impartial justice required that I put my personal feelings and political biases aside,” Romney said on the Senate floor, a brief but indelible counterpoint to what his party had become.Did this moment come late in Romney’s career, only once the prize of the presidency was no longer possible? Yes. Did it allow Romney to make a statement rather than a difference, in that his isolated vote could not produce Trump’s conviction? Of course. But over time, a statement can become a difference. As a senator, Romney still voted in line with Trump’s agenda most of the time, but his declaration that Trump’s behavior was “wrong, grievously wrong” was the assertion of principle over self-interest, affirming his father’s legacy and bringing him closer to fulfilling the Romney obligation. When I asked Coppins how history might look upon Romney, he answered: “If we could all be remembered for eventually reaching the best version of ourselves, I think that would be wonderful. And I think that would be fair for him.”Romney has long kept private journals, and Coppins noticed that the most copious entries came during the 2012 campaign, when Romney imagined he was gathering material for a memoir. He would never write one because, as he explained to Coppins, no one reads memoirs by the losers. That may be so. But “Romney: A Reckoning” shows that books about the losers can be worth the read, and that eventual victories can be worth the losses.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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      Book Review: ‘Romney,’ by McKay Coppins

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      ROMNEY: A Reckoning, by McKay Coppins“For most of his life, he has nursed a morbid fascination with his own death, suspecting that it might assert itself one day suddenly and violently.” One doesn’t expect these opening words from an authorized biography of a handsome, wealthy, happily married and instinctively moderate man, but this is how McKay Coppins’s “Romney” begins. Perhaps Mitt Romney fears his severance from so many blessings, but as Coppins’s revealing new book demonstrates, this businessman-politician has often wondered if he deserved such an abundance of good fortune at all.Coppins conducted 45 interviews with Romney over two years and had access to hundreds of pages in private journals that the now 76-year-old senator has kept since 2011. “Romney” presents a man given to cycles of rationalization and guilt, to sometimes near-O.C.D. levels of repetitive thinking and self-recrimination. The biographer pronounces his “defining trait” to be a “meld of moral obligation and personal hubris.”Romney has, in fact, had two brushes with sudden death, the first in a terrible automobile accident in 1968 when he was a 21-year-old Mormon missionary in France. The second came a half-century later on a January afternoon in the besieged Senate chamber of the U.S. Capitol, to which the better angels of Romney’s conscience had led him after a long up-and-down political life.His father, George, was a progressive Republican governor of Michigan in the 1960s, marching with civil rights activists even as his own church banned Black members from the priesthood. His 1968 run for the presidency collapsed after he referred to the military cheerleading for the Vietnam War as “brainwashing.”Mitt grew up with predictable comforts but nothing like a sense of direction until, during his Mormon mission, sick with diarrhea, he knocked on doors in the French port city of Le Havre that might as well have been brick walls. It eventually “struck him with the force of something divine” that, however futile they seemed, his sacrifices were accepted by God.Once back home he was on his way, along a path both faithful and lucrative, into the expanding worlds of business consulting and private equity in the 1970s and ’80s. Straining to make time for both his church and the five sons he and his wife were raising in suburban Boston, Romney achieved big success at Bain Capital, the investment firm he helped found that guided the office-supply chain Staples toward explosive growth and cut jobs at Ampad, one of the stationery manufacturers that stocked Staples’ shelves.Romney was moving fast, and Coppins himself is a bit headlong in the book’s early going, which includes Romney’s ill-fated 1994 Senate run against Ted Kennedy. Romney’s later repair of Utah’s shambolic preparations for the 2002 Winter Olympics propelled him to a single term as governor of Massachusetts, during which he enacted the health-insurance plan that came to be seen as a state-level precursor of Obamacare. The governor was logical and naïve enough to believe that the program’s success might get him the Republican presidential nomination in 2008. But after running into Iowans’ suspicions of Mormonism, he limped toward an early withdrawal from the race.Four years later, he somehow succeeded with Republican primary voters newly jazzed by tea-partying and birtherism and not particularly craving a candidate who had to spend time convincing them that Romneycare was actually quite different from Obamacare. To overcome Herman Cain, Newt Gingrich and the two Ricks (Perry and Santorum), Romney needed to dial his rationalization settings high enough to endure mad conversation with the conservative provocateur Glenn Beck.Securing the nomination proved only a prelude to what Coppins, with some justice, calls “one of the pettiest, most forgettable presidential elections in modern history” — no matter that it’s been all downhill since then. Romney was demagogued by Vice President Joe Biden, who told Black voters in one audience that the Republican candidate hoped to “put y’all back in chains,” and mocked by Obama for having observed that Russia would be our most dangerous long-term adversary. But he lost the election mostly on his own, with a gaffe worse than his father’s old brainwashing one: Romney was caught on tape dissing the “47 percent” of voters “dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims.”Few moments of that year’s campaign will be more cringe-inducing to a reader than Romney’s acceptance of Donald Trump’s endorsement, in Las Vegas, for the Republican nomination. Throughout Coppins’s narrative Trump, the supposed billionaire, morphs from comic relief into devouring nemesis. As late as May 2012, Romney was confiding this description of Trump to his journal: “No veneer, the real deal. Got to love him. Makes me laugh and makes me feel good, both.” Four years later, having come to his senses, Romney refused Trump his own endorsement, earning the candidate’s fury.Romney also sent a blistering email to Chris Christie after the New Jersey governor came out for Trump: “He is unquestionably mentally unstable, and he is racist, bigoted, misogynistic, xenophobic.” Even so, after Trump’s victory, thinking he could perhaps be a force for restraint, Romney allowed himself to be humiliated by Trump’s prolonged public dangling of the secretary of state job.It took two more years for him to arrive at his finest — and final — hours in politics. In 2018, as a handful of anti-Trump Republicans like Bob Corker and Jeff Flake left Congress, Romney jumped in. His becoming a freshman senator from Utah was made possible by his own humility and the Mormon state’s temperamental aversion to the president’s personality, which had helped depress Trump’s 2016 margin of victory in the state.Setting up shop in a lousy basement office, Romney abandoned his plan “to fight Trumpism while ignoring Trump,” at last realizing he had to face the man head-on. While should-have-known-better Republican colleagues waffled (Ben Sasse) or submissively swooned (Lindsey Graham), Romney kept his head above the fetid waters, eventually developing a particular contempt for J.D. Vance, the once anti-Trump hillbilly elegist who reached the Senate via what Romney’s father might have called self-brainwashing. Resistance to Trump’s election-fraud claims left Romney to be jeered by fellow passengers on a flight from Salt Lake City to Washington on Jan. 5, 2021. Even before his vote to convict Trump in a second impeachment, private security for his large family was costing him $5,000 a day.“Romney: A Reckoning” is in many ways a straightforward biography, but it has the intimacy of a small subgenre of political confessions: One remembers Monica Crowley’s “Nixon Off the Record” (1996) and Thomas M. DeFrank’s “Write It When I’m Gone” (2007), a collection of opinions that Gerald Ford wanted to make public, though not too soon.Romney has not waited until he’s dead to unleash his candor and surrender his journals, but he has announced his retirement from electoral politics, on the sensible grounds that it is already too geriatric an arena. Even so, a second Senate term was hardly guaranteed to him. Whatever remains of Mormon distaste for Trump’s vulgarity and meanness, 2024 will be a meaner year than 2018; in a poll taken in the spring, more than half of Utah’s Republicans did not want Romney to run again.Coppins, a fellow Mormon, is generally as polite as his subject, though the characterization of Romney’s “late-in-life attempt at political repentance” seems a bit stark. As this able book shows, Romney almost certainly has less to repent of than the average politician. Indeed, one believes Coppins when he says that “watching Trump complete his conquest of the G.O.P. was even more devastating to Romney than losing his own election in 2012.”The depicted “reckoning” is actually lifelong and, more important, something that has always been made from within. Romney’s moral vitality, for all its fitfulness and ambivalence, has kept him a free man. Only a morally dead one, whose self-worth comes entirely from without, will find that stone walls do indeed a prison make.ROMNEY: A Reckoning | By McKay Coppins | 403 pp. | Scribner | $32.50 More

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      Oprah Floated a 2020 Presidential Ticket With Mitt Romney, Book Says

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      Ms. Winfrey wanted to form the independent ticket to stop Donald J. Trump, according to a forthcoming book. Mr. Romney listened to the pitch but passed on the idea, the biography says.Concerned that the Democratic field wasn’t up to the task of stopping President Donald J. Trump in 2020, Oprah Winfrey pitched Mitt Romney on the idea of running for president as an independent, with her as his running mate, according to a forthcoming biography of the Republican senator from Utah.Ms. Winfrey floated the unusual ticket in a phone call she placed to Mr. Romney’s wife, Ann Romney, in November 2019, according to an excerpt from the book, “Romney: A Reckoning,” that was shared with The New York Times.Mr. Romney at least listened to the idea. (It was Oprah calling, after all.) He “heard the pitch, and told her he was flattered, but that he’d have to pass,” the author, McKay Coppins of The Atlantic, writes.Liz Johnson, an aide to Mr. Romney, declined to comment on Monday. A spokeswoman for Ms. Winfrey said in a statement that she had urged Mr. Romney to run, but not with her.“In November 2019, Ms. Winfrey called Senator Romney to encourage him to run on an independent ticket,” the statement said. “She was not calling to be part of the ticket and was never considering running herself.”Mr. Coppins’s book was based on hours of interviews with Mr. Romney, as well as emails, texts and journals that the senator had been saving to potentially write a memoir. Realizing he could not be objective about himself, Mr. Romney has said he chose to have a journalist write about him instead.Ms. Winfrey’s interest in forming an independent ticket with Mr. Romney, which was reported on Monday by Axios, is among several dishy items from the book, which is to be released on Oct. 24.She has known the Romneys since 2012, when she interviewed them at their lakeside home in New Hampshire as Mr. Romney was running for president. Ms. Winfrey had also seen Ms. Romney at various social events, and was “especially fond” of her, according to the book.On the phone with Ms. Romney, Ms. Winfrey explained that Michael Bloomberg, the former New York City mayor, was preparing to enter the race and had approached her about joining his ticket. Before she decided, she wanted to gauge Mr. Romney’s interest.She doubted that Joseph R. Biden Jr. or Pete Buttigieg could beat Mr. Trump and was “certain” that Senator Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts could not, according to the book.Ms. Romney responded that her husband would not run for president in 2020, either as a Republican or as an independent, Mr. Coppins writes. Mr. Romney also politely batted down the idea, according to the book.An aide to Mr. Bloomberg declined to comment.Ms. Winfrey has at times been mentioned as a potential presidential candidate herself.In 2018, after she delivered a rousing speech at the Golden Globes, some were clamoring for her to run. But she told “60 Minutes Overtime” that she would not become a candidate in 2020 even though “I had a lot of wealthy men calling, telling me that they would run my campaign and raise $1 billion for me.”“I am actually humbled by the fact that people think that I could be a leader of the free world, but it’s just not in my spirit,” she said. “It’s not in my DNA.”Mr. Romney, 76, recently announced that he would not seek re-election in 2024, saying he wanted to make way for a “new generation of leaders.” He strongly suggested that Mr. Trump and President Biden should also bow out, arguing that neither was effectively leading his party to confront the “critical challenges” the nation faces. More

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      What to Keep in Mind About Mitt Romney

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      Reading the recent excerpt from McKay Coppins’s forthcoming biography of Mitt Romney of Utah, I was struck by the depth of the senator’s contempt and disdain for much of the Republican Party, including many of his colleagues in the Senate.He condemned their vanity, their venality, their cowardice. “Every time he publicly criticized Trump, it seemed,” Coppins writes, describing Romney’s account, “some Republican senator would smarmily sidle up to him in private and express solidarity.” Romney made note of the “rank cynicism” of his Republican colleagues and their almost total refusal to stand up for anything that might harm their future electoral prospects. He saved his harshest words, however, for those Republican senators who would do or say anything for political power and influence.What bothered Romney most about Hawley and his cohort was the oily disingenuousness. “They know better!” he told me. “Josh Hawley is one of the smartest people in the Senate, if not the smartest, and Ted Cruz could give him a run for his money.” They were too smart, Romney believed, to actually think that Trump had won the 2020 election. Hawley and Cruz “were making a calculation,” Romney told me, “that put politics above the interests of liberal democracy and the Constitution.”As for the latest crop of Republicans, Romney had this to say: “I don’t know that I can disrespect someone more than J.D. Vance.”Reading all this, which is surprisingly harsh and unsparing for someone who is still an active participant in American political life, I wonder how much of it is Romney’s sublimated criticism of himself.On the occasion of Romney’s retirement, which he announced this week, there have been a number of odes, retrospectives and more or less hagiographic assessments of his political career, each colored by his genuinely admirable opposition to Donald Trump. Romney was, after all, the first senator in American history to ever vote to remove a president of his own party from office.But Romney also played a significant role in giving Trump mainstream political credibility when he enthusiastically accepted the reality television star’s endorsement in the 2012 Republican presidential primary. And beyond Trump, Romney — in both of his campaigns for president — eagerly and enthusiastically pandered to the right-wing rage and resentment that eventually found its champion in Trump. This was the Romney who promised to “double Guantánamo” in 2007 and urged “self-deportation” in 2012. It was the Romney who cracked, to a cheering crowd, that “No one’s ever asked to see my birth certificate” and the Romney who did a great deal to appeal to the most viciously right-wing figures in his party.Romney was, not unlike the colleagues he criticizes, willing to say whatever it took to win power, even if it meant smearing nearly half the country as essentially unproductive and opening the door to some of the most corrosive forces in American political life.It is interesting that Romney has such tough words for his colleagues. But speaking as an observer of his career, it seems to me that there are tough words that Romney ought to have for himself. And if he isn’t willing to go that far in public, he should at least do more than leave the scene with a parting jab at the former president.If nothing else changes, then next November, one of two men, Joe Biden or Donald Trump, will be on the way to a second term in the White House. For his role in creating this mess, I think the least Romney could do is to say, to the country, exactly who he thinks should prevail.What I WroteMy Friday column was on Mitt Romney’s comments about his party’s hostility to the Constitution and what that might mean.Americans like to imagine that the story of the United States is the story of ever greater alignment between our Constitution and our democratic values — the “more perfect union” of the Constitution’s preamble. But the unfortunate truth, as we’re beginning to see with the authoritarian turn in the Republican Party, is that our constitutional system doesn’t necessarily need democracy, as we understand it, to actually work.Now ReadingRepresentatives Cori Bush and Rashida Tlaib on “Cop City” in Atlanta and the silencing of dissent for The Nation.Lynn Hunt on the revolutions of 1848 in Europe for The New York Review of Books.Julian Borger on the 50th anniversary of the Chilean coup for The Guardian.Kathryn Joyce on the right-wing’s parallel economy for The New Republic.A two-hour analysis of the work of Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, for those of you who are interested in that kind of thing.Photo of the WeekI was in Montreal for a little bit over the summer and I’m just beginning to go through my photos from the trip. Here is a quick snapshot of a street performer and the crowd around him.Now Eating: Pearl Couscous With Creamy Feta and ChickpeasI made this for dinner this week and it was a hit with the whole family. It also helped me use up the abundance of cherry tomatoes we have from our garden, which is a big plus. As always, I went heavy on the herbs. I also served this with a tzatziki sauce and some tinned fish (smoked tuna) that I had in the pantry. The whole meal was filling and nutritious, and felt reasonably virtuous. Recipe comes from New York Times Cooking.Ingredients1 pint grape tomatoes, halved¼ cup sliced scallions2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar, plus more for serving2 fat garlic cloves, finely grated or minced1½ teaspoons kosher salt, plus more as needed½ teaspoon black pepper, plus more for serving3 oregano, rosemary or sage sprigs2 cups vegetable stock or water⅓ cup chopped cilantro, dill or parsley, plus more for serving½ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest (from ½ lemon)¾ teaspoon ground cumin8 ounces pearl couscous (1½ cups)1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed1 cup feta, crumbled (about 4 ounces)⅓ cup freshly grated Parmesan (1½ ounces)DirectionsHeat oven to 450 degrees. In a 9-inch baking dish, cake pan or gratin dish, toss together tomatoes, scallions, 2 tablespoons oil, 1 tablespoon vinegar, garlic, ½ teaspoon salt, pepper and oregano sprigs. Roast until tomatoes are tender, about 15 minutes.While tomatoes roast, heat the stock until it boils, then stir in remaining 1 teaspoon salt, adding more to taste. (You want a well-seasoned broth here to flavor the couscous.) Stir in cilantro, lemon zest and cumin.Remove tomatoes from oven and fold in couscous, chickpeas and hot stock mixture. Cover pan tightly with foil, and return to oven for 20 minutes.Remove foil and fold in about ¾ of the feta (save the rest for garnish) and Parmesan. Bake uncovered until feta starts to melt, another 5 minutes.To serve, pull out and discard herb sprigs if you like, and spoon couscous into bowls. Top with remaining feta, lots more herbs, pepper and a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. More