Risotto al finocchio, or fennel risotto

I was standing at my kitchen counter slicing, stirring and thinking. I was thinking about life, how much - or rather how little - time we have. I was thinking about how we all want to leave a mark in this world, how we all want to be remembered.

 

Not everyone is born an artist, a genius with words, notes, paintbrushes; not all of us have magic in their hands. We don't all excel in our careers or have children to pass on our genes, our teachings, our experience. But I think we all strive to be remembered, we all want our life to have had a meaning, to have left some sort of an impact.

 

I kept stirring and musing. I was making a family favorite, risotto, using a totally new ingredient, the humblest of vegetables. I had never once heard of or even thought of making risotto with fennel bulbs until recently. I ask myself why, now that I have experienced the delightful creamy, delicate yet almost buttery flavor fennel imparts.

 

Fennel and zucchini tarte tatin

 

 

Last night, we were all sitting together in the children's room before bedtime. The room was bathed in the golden light of a bedside lamp. The shutters were closed, it was a dark and cold outside. My husband was reclined on our dauther's bed, in a comfy sweatshirt and warm socks. We were all listening to her read a few pages of a book out loud. It was sweet and moving to watch her lips form sentences, to hear her little voice read us a story, halting here and there to re-read a word she couldn't grasp. I was lying across from them on my son's little bed. He was nestled and cozy under the duvet. I was stroking his impossibly soft, just washed hair and breathing in that delicious smell of clean child and fresh sheets. I felt the pillowy comforter and crisp sheets beneath me.
 

 

 

 

My daughter read something funny and we all laughed. We started and we couldn't stop. In glee, my son jumped out of the bed and hopped onto his sister's bed, kissed his father and curled up into his arms. his fingers playing with his worn blankie, sucking on his beloved ciuccio. My daughter read on.

 

It was one of those perfect moments. A fleeting instant of total, pure, unadulterated joy. We were together, we were one, we were comfortable and safe and happy.

 

 

 

 

This is a moment I will remember. Not this exact instant perhaps, but I know when I think back and remember these early years I will remember them being oh so good because of a collection of moments like these. This is what makes every difficult, exahusting, frustrating moment of parenthood 100% worth it. This is what life is really about.

 

 

 

 

This recipe was inspired by the beautiful blog Manger, a real treat for the eyes as well as the palate.

I love how versatile it is, you can pretty much use any vegetable following Mimi's simple, straightforward directions.

 

I had never made a tarte tatin because it felt a little daunting. You see, tarte tatin happens to be F's favorite cake after pecan pie (my second post! Forgive that store bought dough and photo, it still is a killer recipe with a homemade crust) and when we honeymooned in Paris (twelve years ago this month) he ate it at least once a day while I, little trollop that I am, hopped from mousse au chocolat to crème brûlée to a tatin or two myself. Now that I have made a very tasty (if I may say so myself) savory version, I feel I can try to approach the traditional version of this greatly beloved tart.

 

 

 

 

Spaghetti with clams and roasted fennel* - for my munchkin

Dear Munchkin,

yesterday you climbed onto a doubledecker bus with a big toothless smile and drove away.

Five years ago you were barely a baby and now you are hundreds of kilometers away with your friends, laughing and playing and chatting a mile a minute.

When I got back from the office, I came across the pink mug with your name on it, the one you use to drink your milk at breakfast. I picked it up and held it in my hands and felt my chest tighten a bit. It is normally so easy to just reach out and touch you, but now all I can do is caress its smooth surface.

Don't worry, I am not sad, I know you are in good hands and that you are having the time of your life. A few days ago, when I was kissing you good night and I told you I would miss you, you took my face in your hands and said: "don't worry Mommy, I will only be gone five days and then it will be the week end and we will have two whole days together". When did you grow up and become so wise?

How are you suddenly old enough to leave with your own suitcase that holds 6 plastic bags, one for each day, with your name on it and a full change of clothes (including your cupcake underwear) and an extra bag for disco night, with a fancy dress and tights in it? 

Your brother didn't really seem to notice you were gone and got extra cuddles and attention, but the apartment seems quiet. While I was brushing his teeth I wondered whether you were brushing yours alone or if your teacher was helping you. While I was changing his diaper I glanced over at your bed. It was intact, each and every pillow in the right place. I felt that pang again. That is when the little one seemed to finally catch on. He walked over to your bed and tried to climb onto it, repeating your name over and over. He had a hard time falling asleep, there were a lot of tears. It was the fifth time in his life he was sleeping without you (and the first three he was in the hospital with me and barely knew you - or me - yet).

Did you sleep well my love? Were you homesick? Today I am calling you at 2:00pm. The teachers thought it best not to call the first day, so you could get settled. They strategically picked the afternoon so you little guys would be distracted by all the planned activities after speaking to us.

What are you doing this morning? Are you hiking up the mountain with the secret map? Are you playing on the shores of the lake? Or are you taking that boatride you were so excited about?

Whatever you are doing my love, have fun. Laugh until your tummy hurts, run until your cheeks turn pink and your hair looks even crazier than it usually does. Even if a teeny irrational part of me wants you to be a little homesick, the truth is I know you are probably not and that you are having the time of your life and this makes me happy. Because it means that you feel loved at home, that you know that we are waiting for you no matter how far away you are and that our love makes you feel safe enough to spread your wings and fly.

My daughter is away at a program called Scuola Natura organized by the Italian public school system to take kids on a nature trip for a week. Our school was picked at the last minute so there was not much time to get organized before departure. Which is a good thing if you are asking me, because: a) my daughter would have burst with the excitement of leaving if she would have had to wait even just a day longer; b) it didn't give us parents too much time to agonize before they left (as some of you know, this was the second night my daughter was ever spending away from us). The organizational aspect was quite intricate as you can imagine, considering it involved preparing for a 5-year old to be away for five whole days filled with several activities. Besides the clothes bags I mentioned above with names and hand written notes of their content and an endless list of accessories to prepare, it involved (among other things):

- decorating a treasure box together with your child to take along to store material and souvenirs

- organizing a cell phone card to give the teacher to use for phone calls and calling procedures

- a meeting with the teacher and parents

- writing addresses on adhesive labels and buying stamps for postcards

- preparing an envelope with spending money in small bills

- writing a personal letter to the teacher describing your child' everyday habits and bedtime routines to   make them feel at home as much as possible

Here is a recipe that my little girl really enjoyed the night before leaving. Hope you enjoy it too. 

*For those of you who do not like fennel, roasting it totally erases that aniseed flavor and makes it soft and sweet, almost like a roasted onion. You have to try it to believe it.