Part of getting back to the business of living, getting through the grief we’ve been feeling in this last week, has been to make plans, to reinstitute some structure in our lives. I sketched out a meal plan last weekend for this week’s dinners, with Monday’s ratatouille, and Tuesday’s comforting tortellini en brodo, with leafy greens swimming in the rich chicken stock Mike made earlier that day. Wednesday’s dinner plans got derailed early on, the result of some unexpected schedule changes, but I felt confident that I could put something together when I got home from work.

I had picked up some beautiful broccoli at last Saturday’s farmers’ market with the hopes of turning it into a batch of my friend Maria‘s Roasted Bagna Cauda Broccoli and serving it over farro, but when I pulled it out of the crisper it was long gone. My fall-back-and-punt had turned into a failure before I even got started, but I didn’t want to cave and order takeout – I wanted to cook a good, wholesome dinner at home. So I pulled out the chard I was saving to use in soup later in the week, carved it up in my usual manner, and sauteed it with olive oil, good, meaty anchovies, plenty of garlic and slivers of fresh red chile peppers.

I tossed it all with just-cooked farro linguine, added a shower of parm, and dinner was served. And it was only today that I realized that I made nearly the same simple, comforting dish about 2 1/2 years before.

We love farro around here. As a side dish or the base of a hearty grain salad, it’s a staple in our pantry, so when I saw Jennifer Perillo’s recipe for Summer Farro Salad, a finalist in this week’s best fresh mozzarella recipe contest, I knew I’d have to try it.

I’ve made similar farro salads before, but Jennie’s recipe includes some great little grace notes that make this dish sing: cooking the farro with aromatics infuses the grains with flavor, and the vinaigrette combines both sweet and tart flavors that marry really nicely with the other flavors in the dish. I thought the chopped olives were a particularly nice touch.

The mix of textures was probably what I loved the most – the soft mozzarella chunks playing against the tender bite of the farro and the pop of my little cherry tomatoes made for a really enjoyable dish. I’ll admit I was worried that the honey in the dressing would be just a little too much for my taste when I tasted it on its own, but every time I got a spoonful of the dressed salad loaded up with each element, I couldn’t believe how well balanced it all was. This is a delicious dish, great as last night’s dinner, and as today’s lunch. Thanks, Jennie!

This here is a plate of farro, gently steamed Cooks Valley Farm spinach, melted Wishing Stone Farm cherry tomatoes with Zephyr Farm green garlic, a healthy hit of lemon juice and zest, some good olive oil, a crumble of Blue Ledge Farm goat cheese, and a sprinkling of crispy homemade herb and lemon breadcrumbs. Summer’s coming, and I love that we’re entering the time of year when I can make a fast and satisfying weeknight meal from a simply cooked grain, a load of vegetables and herbs from the farmers’ market, and a judicious amount of good quality fat and protein.

Sure, I wait as anxiously for the first good summer tomatoes and sweet corn as much as the next guy, but I look forward to the arrival of fava beans at the farmers market more than anything else. There’s something beguiling about those curvy pods, something satisfying about slowly slipping the beans out and peeling off their little jackets (if you’re curious, I don’t blanch them before peeling – it has never made much sense to me, and doesn’t seem to save much time or effort).

I love eating them raw, with a bit of salt and lemon juice sprinkled on, or tossed on the grill whole until the pods are charred and smoky, but when I cook them indoors I try to keep things very simple, placing them into a pan with olive oil, some softened chopped shallot, a crumbled chile arbol (or chile flakes), and a sprig or two of herb like thyme or savory – a preparation which borrows heavily from Suzanne Goin’s prepararation in Sunday Suppers at Lucques.

I cooked these for just a few minutes, until they were bright green and buttery soft, then I tossed them with some hot cooked farro and a simple lemon vinaigrette. I had a small head of Treviso radicchio in the fridge, which I cut into ribbons and tossed in to add a nice bitter component, and I shaved plenty of sharp, salty Pecorino Romano over the top before serving. Though I didn’t think to do it last night, I suspect some toasted, chopped hazelnuts would have been a nice addition, providing a little bit of crunch.

I’m a big fan of sausage. Some of the stuff that’s out there is suspect, filled with preservatives and other things you probably don’t want to think about, but if you can get your hands on the good stuff from a producer you trust (or, even better, if you make your own), you’ll be amazed at the things you can do with it.

When it comes down to it, sausage is just meat – pork, or chicken, or turkey, or whatever – that is ground up and already seasoned for you. Remove it from the casing and use it just as you would any other ground meat. It’s incredibly versatile, and a great building block for quick dinners.

These might be the easiest meatballs I’ve ever made, and considering the sounds my husband was making as he ate, they just might be the tastiest. I took a pound of sweet Italian sausage (from Pat’s Pastured), removed it from its casing, and combined it with a cup of drained ricotta, a little salt, and an egg. I mixed everything together with my hands until it was well combined, then incorporated some fresh breadcrumbs (from two slices of soft multi-grain bread, pulsed in the food processor until the crumbs were slightly smaller than peas).

I formed the mixture into gumball-sized meatballs, and rolled each of them in a little bit of Wondra, then shallow-fried them in batches in about half an inch of olive oil.

I served the meatballs in shallow bowls with cooked farro and a parmesan broth with thinly sliced scallions and lots of fresh herbs, finishing each serving with a little smoked paprika and parm shavings.

The meatballs were crisp on the outside and almost meltingly tender in the middle thanks to the addition of the ricotta, and because they were made with sausage, they were seasoned perfectly throughout. I love when a meal with this much flavor takes so little time and effort to put together.

I learned to love brussels sprouts at an early age, but they’re another one of those cold-weather veggies I tend to prepare the same way over and over. I wanted to give them a starring role in a main dish, but I also wanted to avoid anything heavy or overly rich. I decided to pair them with mushrooms for meatiness, and a little of our stripped-off-the-cob-and-frozen “Butter & Sugar” corn for sweetness. Nutty farro provided a vehicle for the roasted and toasted veggies, which were all dressed in a light bath of sage brown butter. This was fast, simple, and really easy to put together – here’s what I did:

I halved my cleaned brussels sprouts and quartered the mushrooms, placing each of them on foil-lined baking sheets, giving them a light toss with kosher salt and a drizzle of olive oil, and then I roasted them in a 425 degree oven for about 20 minutes. About halfway through, I shook them around on their pans and tossed them with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. While the veggies cooked, I had a pan of farro going on the stove – one cup farro, two cups water, and a healthy pinch of kosher salt. I melted a couple of ounces of butter in another pan, adding a handful of whole fresh sage leaves, which I removed to drain on a paper towel when they were crisp.

When the butter was nutty smelling and browned, I added the corn, letting it cook just briefly. When the farro was tender, I drained it and gave it a very brief rinse in hot water. The farro went into a large bowl, the roasted mushrooms and brussels went in as well, and the corn and brown butter went on top. I gave it a gentle toss to coat and combine everything, tossed in all but a few of the fried sage leaves, tossed again and plated, finishing with shards of Parmagiano Reggiano and the remaining sage leaves for garnish.

A little brown, but surprisingly good.

You guys know I don’t do well with recipes. But here goes, approximately, anyway.

1.5 cups of farro cooked in
3 cups of salted water until al dente
then drained and combined with
1 cup of Narragansett Creamery ricotta, gently folded in until creamy

and then

1 cup of fresh butter+sugar corn from Cooks Valley Farm
sauteed in 1 tablespoon(ish) of olive oil
with 1 fat Wishing Stone shallot, peeled and very finely minced
with a pinch or two of salt
and
2 oz. of dry white wine
added to the shallot and corn, and cooked over mediumish heat until simmered away
and then, the tomatoes

specifically, 3 cups, chunked, misc. heirloom

then a pinch more salt, the tomatoes cooked just until warm
and then the farro/ricotta mixture is folded into the shallot/corn/tomato, gently
with a handful of fresh basil leaves, chopped, added as well

Combine, adjust salt, add a wee bit of freshly grated Pecorino Romano, if you wish. We did.

Not the prettiest dinner, but oh my, it was so. very. good.

The last week has been a struggle, but with two weeks left to go before our move, we’re trying hard to get on with our lives. There’s a lot left to do and not much time to do it, and honestly, the sorting and packing have been a welcome distraction. I’ve gotten to the point in my grieving where I have actually been able to get back into the routine of making dinner, though I’ll admit that much of what I’ve put on the table has been uninspired. It’s going to take a while before I get that spark back.

I put together a quick pasta last night, using some really nice spaghettini di farro I had picked up recently at Formaggio Essex. I cooked it until al dente and tossed it with a few odds and ends from the fridge – some sautéed shallot and leftover crimini mushrooms, finely sliced red chard, toasted pine nuts and Pecorino Romano. It was a tasty dish if a little flat; the farro pasta definitely needed more salt in its cooking water, and Mike and I both agreed that some chile flakes or lemon zest or a punchier cheese would have made for a better dish. I’m definitely not back on my game, but this was a start.

(On an unrelated note, check out who’s blogging Tales of the Cocktail… )

I have a little notebook which I carry around with me, and as inspiration strikes I jot down ideas for meals or combinations of ingredients I’d like to try. As the weather turned colder and the selection of local veggies at the Greenmarket got smaller, I began to think about beets. Which, historically, neither of us has been particularly crazy about. At all.

But in our continuing quest to broaden our palates, we decided to give beets another chance, so from time to time I would write down a few thoughts about what to do with them. There was borscht, obviously, and also some sort of beet/goat cheese combo, but I like to think my best idea was this:

beets + beet greens + farro + bacon

Because really, what doesn’t bacon improve?

So when I sent Mike off to the Greenmarket yesterday morning, I asked him to pick up some beets, preferably with the tops still attached, as well as some of our favorite Tamarack bacon. He reported back that the only beets he could find were trimmed, but he was kind enough to go back at lunchtime and pick up some young red chard at my request.

After weighing my cooking and cleaning options, I decided to roast the beets in a foil pouch. I placed them into a 375 oven for about an hour and got to work on the rest of my ingredients while they cooked. I chopped four strips of bacon into about 1 inch pieces and placed them into a skillet to fry. In a separate pan, I cooked a cup of farro until it was tender but not too soft. When the bacon was crisp, I removed it from the fat and set it aside, and then removed about half of the fat and set that aside as well.

When the beets were cooked and cool enough to handle, I peeled them with a paring knife and cut them into chunks. I tossed them in with the cooked farro, then added the bacon and gave it all a gentle stir. I warmed up the fat that was still in the pan from cooking the bacon, added one finely chopped garlic clove and cooked it just until fragrant, then added my roughly chopped chard and a pinch of salt. When the greens were just wilted but still bright green, I removed them from the heat and added them to the beet/bacon/farro mixture. I placed the reserved bacon fat back into the pan to warm, then poured it, along with another pinch of salt and a healthy splash of sherry vinegar, over the mixture and gave it another stir.

The farro turned a rather comical shade of fuschia when it was tossed with the beets, but I have to admit that the deep red beets and bright greens were a nice change of pace from the red/brown palette of our recent meals. But did this dish change our minds about beets?

I’m pleased to report that it did. As I suspected the combination of flavors worked really well together, and the flavor of those roasted beets was far, far superior to anything we had tasted growing up. As it turns out, beets are yummy. Who knew?

Cherries have just begun to appear at the Greenmarket, and while I love them straight or with a little something sweet, I love them even more in savory dishes. They’re a perfect partner for duck, and when the temperature inside our apartment proved too warm to sear these duck breasts and make a cherry pan sauce, I had to punt.

I scored the skin/fat side of the duck breasts and seasoned them heavily with salt, then handed them off to Mike to grill (which, by the way, he did to perfection). I cooked up a cup of farro in about 2 cups of salted water, drained it, and set it aside to cool slightly. I mixed up a bit of dijon vinaigrette, added a hefty amount of fresh thyme from the garden, tossed in about a cup of halved pitted fresh cherries, then added the farro and tossed it all together. The tartness of the cherries and sharpness of the dijon mustard were great counterpoints to the richness of the duck.