Just Keep Stirring the Risotto

I've gotten in the habit of writing the menu for the week and posting it on the fridge. Not only is this charming habit passed down directly from my mom (like so many other wonderful and challenging traits), but it has made a lot of things easier. Grocery shopping, for example, is a lot easier when you know what you're planning to eat that week. It helps reduce the likelihood of purchasing well-intentioned produce only to have it rot in the fridge when you didn't have a concrete plan for it. I WILL buy my weight in broccoli; thanks for making it on sale, Store! Writing a menu also helps to motivate you if you're having an especially crappy day. Well, the universe obviously hates me today, but at least it's spaghetti night.

Today wasn't terrible, but it was the perfect day to make my first risotto. The only thing I know about risotto is from the only season I watched Hell's Kitchen - Gordan Ramsay kept yelling at the aspiring chefs about how bleeping terrible it was. My expectations were not high. I picked the recipe from a signed cookbook I recently received as a gift, Lidia Cooks from the Heart of Italy. Risotto with Gorgonzola? The ingredients are right there in the title so on to the grocery list they went and on to the fridge menu for Tuesday night.

Apparently, the only trick about risotto is that you don't leave it alone... EVER! I tried a few times to re-fill my glass of wine or make the final preparations on my salad. No, blurbled Risotto, you must tend to me! So you just stand and stir. Stand and stir. Stand and.....

Ok, so it gets old after a while. But tending to something relatively simple helps to make the rest of life's complexities melt away. If you are willing to put in a little preparation ahead of time (like going to the store to make sure you have gorgonzola on the day you need it), be patient and take the time to continue stirring (and tasting) and and repeating, something pretty awesome might come out of it. I could keep stirring the metaphorical risotto and never have it turn out right and that's okay. At least it's risotto night.

To Market, To Market...

The professor and I went to the Mercato in Little Italy today in hot pursuit of a good farmer's market in San Diego. This quest comes on the heels of visiting, and enjoying, the Pike Place Market in Seattle and the Farmer's Market in Los Angeles. What I loved so much about these places was all the fresh fruit and veggies, just begging to be taken home, and the over zealous shopkeepers eagerly hoping you'll buy whatever it is they're selling. It's crowded, and smells funny, but there's something really comforting about these public markets. It's not just because most of the food is organically grown by local farmers, and it's not just because you get to try lots of free samples of infused olive oil and homemade hummus, although those are certainly valid reasons to go. (Note to vendors: I really, really would like to buy a $12 bottle of fancy olive oil from you but I can't justify the expense. Even if I did buy it, I'd feel guilty every time I used it since I know how much I paid for it so it would probably just sit in my cupboard untouched. Thanks for the sample, though. Note to readers: Infused olive oil makes a great gift.) I think it has to do with the fact that the people you're buying this stuff from actually made (or grew) it. When you go to the grocery store, the clerk doesn't know (or care) where the artichokes he's selling came from. At a farmer's market, those artichokes came from Joe's farm up north. Maybe I've read Fast Food Nation or In Defence of Food too many times, but I don't care.

So grab your reusable tote and bring it to the Mercato. It could just be the perfect inspiration for your next meal. This weekend we'll be having pancetta mixed with cherry tomatoes, fresh basil and pasta, and Sunday is jambalaya. And of course, there are fresh flowers on the table, which makes everything taste better.