Heavenly farro, with lemon and tomato

Heavenly farro, with lemon and tomato. My my, you are lovely. You make me skip joyfully around the apartment while singing The Four Tops Greatest Hits on vinyl. I'm careening across the living room, plate in hand, shouting Bernadette! with a mouthful of farro.

You make me proud to eat leftovers again, even proud to bring leftovers to work for lunch. And...despite your bliss-inducing flavor, you are secretly good for me. I like things that are good for me, but especially if they're secretly good--like a whiff of fresh cigar smoke, a reluctant smile or a messy pile of books.

If you don't yet understand my elation over farro, that's ok. There's still time to learn. I will show you how to find Triticum dicoccum bliss.


For a few days, I felt ambivalent about bringing you such simple dish of baked risotto. Why should I wax poetic about a grain? There's nothing novel about farro. It's been around for over 20,000 years. In the micro-time lines of "now-ness" on which most food blogs operate, farro's history is as compelling as a yawn.

Then, I cooked with it. Oh my. Farro risotti, sometimes called farrotto, tastes elegant without being a fuss to prepare. The grains swell up to capture the flavors in the broth your provide. When you eat cooked farro, it's so delightfully chewy that you'd swear you were eating pasta. Perfect, al dente pasta. To me, farro is so old it's new, if you catch my meaning. Let's take a break from the parade of desserts on this blog and eat something with substance as well as style.

If you just look at this recipe without tasting it, you may think I don't want to impress you any more. That I've finished giving you sexy recipes and--food-wise--I've changed into my gray sweat pants from high school track. (Yes, I still wear them.) That I've become a joyless nutritionist like Jillian Michaels.

You'd think that until I tell you this farrotto is full of freshly grated Parmesan cheese and the best marinara you can find. And delightful, perky, fresh lemon. Loads of lemon. Lemon seals the deal, lifting the flavors from Monday Night Italian for Beginners to Tart Tomato Temptress! It's hard to explain, chemically, what happens when the citric acid from the tomatoes meets the citrus-y lemon and then tumbles into fruity olive oil and wheat-like berries. But the results are delicious, and that's all the science I need to know.


So, if you find yourself staring down the barrel of another soul-less weekday dinner, give farro a try. You'll notice the chewy farro's nutty flavor first, but the fresh lemon and tomato will steal the show from there, with creamy Parmesan not far behind.

Semi-pearled farro is easy(ish) to find in Portland, but if you can't find it nearby, substitute semi-pearled barley or even wheat berries for the farro. You'll want a chewy grain that holds its shape even after 45 minutes of absorbing liquids and baking. Adjust the amount of liquid or baking time so that the finished risotto is full of rich sauce but not swimming in a broth.


Heavenly Farro, with lemon and tomato
lightly adapted from 101 Cookbooks

serves 8ish

• rind and juice of one lemon
• 2 Tb. olive oil
• 1 medium onion (sweet and juicy), chopped
• 1/2 tsp. sea salt
• 2 cups semi-pearled farro
• 1 1/3 cup of the best tomato sauce you find (with no added sugar!)
• 3 cups good vegetable broth
• 1 - 2 Tb. fresh rosemary
• 1 1/2 cups freshly grated Parmesan
• 2 Tb. fresh oregano, chopped

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Rub some olive oil along the inside of a large baking dish and set aside.

Combine olive oil, onion, and salt in a medium saucepan. Cook the onions over medium heat for a few minutes, until the onions are tender and translucent. Add the farro and stir until coated.

Let the farro cook for several minutes, then stir in the tomato sauce and vegetable stock. Snip in the rosemary and add the lemon juice and rind. Bring the mixture to a simmer, then remove from heat.

Stir in the Parmesan. You may reserve some for the top of the farrotto...or you can stir it all in now. Transfer the mixture to the prepared baking dish and cover tightly with foil. Poke a few holes in the top of the foil and bake for 45 minutes, or until the grains are fully cooked. Garnish with chopped oregano and serve with a green salad (perhaps spinach or arugula. Swoon.)

If you liked this post, you may also enjoy:

Rigatoni with red pepper sauce
Beans and 'maters
Spaghetti with roasted tomato cream sauce