Weekend Cooking: Farro Risotto with Pears
I had a cooking breakthrough a couple week’s ago, right about when I made the best tart ever. I realized there are two kinds of cooking, one utilitarian and the other more leisurely, and unfortunately, I was only doing one of them.
Weeknight cooking I’m all too familiar with. It involves me arriving home in sweaty gym clothes, flailing around the kitchen, often a little grumpy and stressed, manically trying to create something to eat before the dum-dum starting bell of Law & Order.
Weekend cooking is baking something. It’s letting something simmer and humming while I chop. It’s relaxed, experimental, and, you don’t need me to tell you, way more fun. But sometimes by the time the weekend rolls around you’ve had enough of washing the dishes and stirring things yourself. You just want to be served. You want someone to set a plate before you, pour the wine, and take it all away when you’re done. And this is why I spend a startling chunk of money in restaurants.
But when I started cooking on Saturday night a few week’s ago, I remembered exactly what it is I love about cooking. I love the expanse of time without a hard deadline in sight. I like trying those recipes that have been clipped and sitting idly in notebooks for years. I like chopping and letting my mind wander, my curiosity and creativity percolate, and later, sitting with my beau at our round white table and having a dinner party for two.
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