Farrotto

The. Greatest. All. Time. My favorite food, a grain called farro. A type of wheat, farro’s pedigree is a bit hazy, and several different grains are often sold as farro in the United States. Many sources trace farro back to ancient Rome and even Egypt, where it seemingly was enjoyed by all classes and all types of people, except these guys, because I just learned were never even there (let alone building pyramids).

I really don’t have the words right now to express my love for this dish. It has come to occupy the highest spot in the rotation, and let’s just say this: I buy farro in bulk. Let me just run through the basics for now –

Kitchen profile: nutty, chewy, firm, easily encouraged to absorb flavors but extremely forgiving and doesn’t lose individual identity

Nutrition profile: a super grain, containing loads and loads of great stuff, including but not limited to B Vitamins, as much protein as beans, anti-oxidants, Iron, Magnesium and Zinc. The science is super shaky on this, but some claim evidence that farro, in various ways, fights obesity, heart disease, lowers cholesterol, regulates blood sugar, and lowers inflammation.

So what is Farrotto? Here is the basic formula for figuring that out:

Farro + Risotto = Farrotto

Farrotto is cooked in the same manner and according to the same principle as risotto, but farro doesn’t contain as much starch as short-grain rice, so the constant stirring or agitation that releases the rice’s starch into the sauce doesn’t appear as necessary with a farroto. I find that a very low but brisk simmer does the trick perfectly. You’ll want to use pearled or semi-pearled farrotto, which means that the husk has been polished off, to keep your cooking time nearer to 25 minutes, rather than well over an hour. If you end up with whole farro, which is a distinct possibility, there is probably a way of pearling it at home – if not I would try soaking the grains overnight.

Parmiggiano reggiano is the natural cheese of choice for this, but I have taken to using a hard sheep’s milk cheese, like a manchego, which is readily available at any corner market. The flavor is obviously different and I generally prefer it, but the body remains essentially the same. As for the greens, you can add virtually any kind that you like. I often will cook a batch of kale separately and incorporate at the end, or will use something that wilts quickly, like arugula or baby spinach. Keep in mind that if you use something like raw chard or kale or curly spinach, it will release a good deal of its own water into the farroto, which will affect cooking time, consistency, and flavor.

Finally, I use the old Italian grandma measurement for risotto – I’ve always heard that it’s two handfuls per person and one for the pot. The amounts below are listed for one person, but it usually makes more than what would be considered a healthy portion. You should get thirds or fourths out of this. I have big hands, so I think we can estimate that each handful is close to a cup. I’ll check this out at some point and verify.

There are virtually endless permutations to this dish, but this is my favorite and most commonly found on my late-night table.

Ingredients:

• ¼ cup olive oil
• 3 handfuls pearled or semi-pealred farro
• 1 medium-large shallot
• 3 cloves garlic
• 6 oz white button or cremini mushrooms, wiped clean, stems trimmed or removed, and quartered
• 2 slices thick-cut bacon, half frozen and then minced (optional)
• 1 chicken breast, cut into 1-inch cubes
• ½ cup frozen peas
• 2 handfuls tender greens, such as baby spinach, arugula, or pea shoots
• 1 TBS butter
• 2 oz grated manchego cheese
• 1 TBS each dried thyme, oregano, red pepper flakes
• ¼ cup white wine
• 2 cups chicken stock
• Salt and pepper

Directions:

Place the oil in a saucepot with high sides (I use what looks to be about 4 or 6 qt saucepot) and place on high heat. After about 60 seconds, add the shallot, garlic, mushrooms, and bacon, if using. Season with salt and pepper, give the whole thing a couple brisk stirs, and cook for until the mushrooms are soft, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. The shallots and garlic should not burn because of the liquid the mushrooms are releasing; for the same reason, the mushrooms won’t really caramelize, which is ok.

When the mushrooms are cooked through and the mixture is reduced in volume considerably, add the farro. Cook for about 1 minute, stirring constantly to prevent sticking. The idea here is to toast the farro in the oil and bacon fat, which will enhance it’s already nutty flavor. After about a minute, add the wine, scraping the bottom to incorporate any fond that has developed in the pot. Cook until almost all the wine has evaporated, then add the chicken stock, chicken, dried herbs, salt and pepper. Stir to incorporate everything thoroughly, bring just to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium low so that you are left with a steady but gentle simmer.

Cook for about 20 minutes, giving the mixture a brisk stir or two every 3-5 minutes. When there is just a bit of liquid left in the pot, the farro should be almost done. If not, add more liquid and continue to cook. If so, mount with the butter, stir until just melted, then add the greens. If you’re adding something that is voluminous when raw, like baby spinach, cover the pot for a minute to let it wilt, then stir to incorporate. Cook for one more minute, then add the cheese and stir to incorporate. Evaluate for consistency – if it’s still too thin you can turn the heat up to evaporate extra liquid. Make sure you are stirring to avoid things sticking to the bottom. If you cook this mixture at too high heat, the cheese or certain elements of it seem to come out of solution and gather at the bottom where they will stick. When there is virtually no liquid left, add the peas, stirring once or twice to cook through. You don’t want this soupy, but it shouldn’t be too dry either. It should ideally come in its own rich, slightly creamy sauce which just over-coats every grain but doesn’t collect in pools.

Serve immediately and enjoy!