Finding farro facility

Back in the early 2010s, just before I had Wanda, my office was on Pier 9, a short distance from San Francisco's Ferry Building, a food paradise. We were spoiled for choice with lunch options, and my absolute favorite for to-go food was Il Cane Rosso.

The menu, hand-drawn on butcher paper, changed every day, based on what produce and other foods were good right then. Owner/chef Lauren Kiino had the most masterful touch at combining flavors. She provided the happiest of things: a ritual that could be comfortably repeated in visiting her stand, but with outstanding variety that regularly introduced me to new tastes.

I was especially intrigued by her use of unusual (to me) grains, like farro, in the menu of sides. I quickly learned that I could order something I normally wouldn't try, because I was in unusually capable hands at Il Cane Rosso.

Now that I'm cooking more, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold a candle to what I was able to get at Il Cane Rosso, but I wanted to bring farro into my regular toolkit. I first tried making a farro dish about a year ago, I think, but the bag of farro has mostly just sat there. None of the recipes out there were as good as Kiino's work, so I wasn't motivated to dig into the farro very often. I have kept poking at it, and have tried a few recipes. Nothing has been so good that I was dying to make it again.

But last night, a breakthrough! I was making cod with pesto, and Rich was blanching some green beans for a side, but I wanted something more. I went looking for a farro recipe, and nothing really matched what I had on hand and what I had time for. So for the first time, I whipped up a farro dish without any recipe at all. I just winged it. I threw farro in a pot, added water, sliced up a half-pint of cherry tomatoes and threw those in, minced a couple cloves of garlic, tossed in some onion powder (which I NEVER use, it was all sad and crusted up in the jar, but I didn't have it in me to dice an onion). Added some oregano, some olive oil, some red pepper flakes, some salt & pepper. I simmered it for about 25 minutes, and then at the end I finished it with a crap ton of grated Parmesan, and then a squeeze of lemon.

It was a bit of a Hail Mary, I was only eyeballing the amounts, I wasn't tasting as I went, I was harried because I was doing other stuff. I figured, it works or it doesn't, whatever.

Hey, it worked! It's nowhere near Kiino territory, but it was an ideal complement to the fish, pesto, and beans, while being its own thing. But the real key is that I wasn't relying on a recipe. That's a huge breakthrough, and greatly opens up my confidence for experimenting with farro more often.

Il Cane Rosso closed in 2016, and Lauren Kiino is now Culinary Director for Hog Island Oyster Co. I don't believe in heaven, but I might be convinced on the basis that it meant I could get her sandwiches again on the regular.