Pasta con le fave ~ Pasta with fava beans

I love this season, it brings with it sunshine, allergies and all my favorite vegetables.
Every Wednesday, my CSA delivers a box with bushels of asparagus, artichokes, crisp heads of lollo lettuce, romanesco broccoli, striped zucchini topped with precious blossoms, free range chicken and eggs, cheese and fruit all hailing from nearby organic Lazio farms. In each box also comes a handful of recipes employing the ingredients of that week.

With the 2 kilos of fava beans that came in this week's haul, I celebrated the national holiday of April 25th, commemorating Italy's liberation from Nazi occupation in 1945. The patriotic fava beans are a common way to end a typical Roman spring meal, provided these be paired with sharp pecorino romano cheese. A match made in heaven.

With the leftover fava beans in my basket, I can either make Vignarola – a versatile miscellany of tender artichokes, fava beans, peas, romaine lettuce hearts, spring onions, lavish amounts of black pepper, and, yes, guanciale (I can actually see the smiles fading from your vegetarian faces) – or a pasta recipe I recently learned while shooting a web series in Capri... But that's another story.

Pasta con le Fave
Ingredients for 4 

1 kg fresh fava beans (some call them broad beans), shelled and peeled
2 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
Extra virgin olive oil
1 bay leaf
1 peperoncino hot pepper (according to taste)
1 spring onion, thinly sliced
50 gr (1/4 cup) breadcrumbs, toasted
100 gr (1/2 cup) pecorino cheese, grated
400 gr (14 oz) pappardelle type pasta

Film-coat a large skillet with olive oil and lightly sauté the garlic with the bay leaf and the hot pepper.

In a separate small saucepan, do the same with the onion, sauteing it until translucent, about 10 minutes.

Boil the shelled and peeled fava beans in plenty unsalted water. Once tender, fish out the fava beans and save the water, you'll be boiling your pasta in it. Finish cooking the fava beans in the skillet and add the onions, adjust seasoning with a pinch of salt, while stirring with a wooden spoon until all flavors are well blended.

Cook the pasta al dente in the fava water, and drain 2 minutes before the time it says on the box. Toss in the skillet with the fava beans, simmer with a ladle of cooking water, blending over a vivacious flame. 

Finish with two handfuls of toasted breadcrumbs, a thread of olive oil, and a generous dusting of grated pecorino cheese. Serve immediately, washed down with a sincere Frascati.
Buon appetito.

Top image ©E.Baldwin - bottom ©foodwolf.com

Favorite spring vegetables

Getting a taste of beloved deep-fried carciofi alla giudìa notoriously means taking advantage of the pesky February-to-May window in which the quintessential Roman artichokes are in season.

But with all the focus on supermodel artichokes, other versatile vegetables, also in season, tend to get short shrift.

Take agretti for example...

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Risi e Bisi recipe

We're talking gourmet comfort food. This is a rich Venetian springtime soup made with the slow cooked technique needed for making risotto, and freshly harvested tender baby peas. I learned how to make Risi e Bisi during one crazy edition of Regata Storica, a few years back. Venezia's historic scull race aboard vintage gondolas, mascarete, sandali and other beautifully ornate antique boats, annually falls on the first Sunday in September, usually messing up Film Festival boat traffic, and leaving stars and publicists stranded on the Lido peer, hopelessly waiting for their Riva motorboat taxi.

The entire city of Venice and inhabitants of the six sestieri wards infact forget all divas and snob cinema flair, participating instead in loud hollering cheers, drinking and unplanned diving in canals from parked boats, madly rooting for their colorful team of upright rowers.

Here's the risi e bisi basics, as handed down by Angelo, the gondolier who kissed me:

1 onion
50 g (1/4 cup) pancetta, finely minced
400 g (2 cups/14 oz) Arborio or Vialone Nano rice
70 g (1/3 cup) extra virgin olive oil
70 g (1/3 cup) unsalted butter
1.5 kg (3.3 lbs) fresh baby peas, unshelled Note: don't discard the shells!
Freshly grated Parmigiano

Begin making a green pea broth by cooking the saved shells of the peas in lightly salted water and then saving the strained liquid. For a richer outcome, Angelo suggests to boil the pea shells in chicken broth instead of water.

Finely slice the onion and sauté it in oil and butter with the pancetta in a large pot.

When the onion tans, add 1 handful of rice + 1, per each person, and cook, stirring constantly. Do this until the rice is translucent (about 5 minutes).

Here comes the fun part: add the green pea broth one ladle at a time, stirring constantly. When you see the rice has given off some starch and looks half done, add the peas.

When the rice is al dente, remove the pot from the stove, stir in una noce di burro (a gob of butter the size of a walnut) and a few tablespoons of grated Parmigiano. The recipe calls for flecks of flatleaf parsley, but if you've been reading this blog long enough, you'll know I'm not super keen on the herb.

In this recipe the rice should be cooked all'onda (behaving like a wave), in other words creamy and moist, rather than pudding-like firm, like regular risotto. You eat it with a spoon rather than a fork...

Image © Rachel Roddy

Vignarola recipe

homemade playdough firstlings

Strawberries in January? "E perché?" That's how Giuliana, my greengrocer replies when I tell her how the organic supermarket in California where my dad lives sells off-season goods all year long. Tomatoes, peaches, cardoons, cabbage and raspberries all share the same space. At the same time.

It's a given for Giuliana, and for her long-standing clients—and Italians in general—that agricultural bounty be closely tied to nature's cycles, to climactic fluctuation, sun, rain, ice. Rhythmically defined by the seasons...

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