Lemon Mushroom Orzo

May. The world is green and I am writing the second book while waiting for the first book to appear, which is the specific temporal disorientation of an author: the published book is the past (written two years ago), the promotional book is the present (coming in five months), and the book being written is the future (arriving in three or four years), and the writer exists in all three tenses simultaneously, like a verb that cannot decide when it is happening.

I made sansai gohan again — the mountain vegetable rice, the spring ritual — with fiddlehead ferns and ramps from the farmers market. The cooking is the one tense I inhabit fully: the present. The chopping is now. The simmering is now. The eating is now. The past and the future dissolve in the steam, and the steam is now, and the now is the only tense the kitchen speaks.

Mother's Day. Miya made me a card — the annual card, the refrigerator gallery growing by one entry. This year's card: a drawing of Miya and me standing under cherry blossoms, mouths open, catching petals. The petals are pink dots. The mouths are circles. The happiness is unmistakable. Below the drawing, in her improving handwriting: "Thank you for the soup mama." Six words. Six words that are the best review the book will ever receive, regardless of what the Oregonian or Bon Appétit or the New York Times says. Thank you for the soup. That is the book. That is the blog. That is the practice. That is the life. Thank you for the soup, mama. I am crying. I am always crying. The tears are not sadness. The tears are the overflow of a container that is too full and cannot hold everything and must release something, and the something is salt water, and the salt water is the tears, and the tears are the gratitude.

The sansai gohan I made that May morning — the fiddleheads, the ramps, the steam rising and dissolving everything that wasn’t right now — reminded me that I don’t always have access to mountain vegetables from a good farmers market, but I am almost always a few minutes away from mushrooms and a lemon and a pot of orzo. This Lemon Mushroom Orzo became my weeknight translation of that same instinct: earthy, bright, and entirely present. It’s what I made the week after Mother’s Day, when I was still thinking about Miya’s card and still, a little, crying.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups orzo pasta
2 1/2 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
10 oz cremini or shiitake mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 small shallot, finely diced
1 lemon, zested and juiced (about 3 tablespoons juice)
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

Toast the orzo. Heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the dry orzo and stir constantly for 2—3 minutes until lightly golden and nutty-smelling.
Simmer in broth. Pour in the vegetable broth, add 1/4 teaspoon salt, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and cook for 10—12 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the orzo is tender and the broth is mostly absorbed. Remove from heat and set aside.
Sauté the aromatics. While the orzo cooks, heat the remaining tablespoon of olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the shallot and cook for 2 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes, if using, and stir for 30 seconds until fragrant.
Cook the mushrooms. Add the sliced mushrooms to the skillet in a single layer. Let them sit undisturbed for 2—3 minutes to develop color, then stir and cook another 3—4 minutes until deeply golden and tender. Season with the remaining salt and the black pepper.
Combine and brighten. Add the cooked orzo to the skillet and stir to combine with the mushrooms. Pour in the lemon juice and add the lemon zest. Fold everything together over low heat for 1—2 minutes until warmed through and glossy.
Finish and serve. Remove from heat and stir in the Parmesan and fresh parsley. Taste and adjust salt and lemon as needed. Serve immediately in warm bowls.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon Mushroom Orzo — The One Tense the Kitchen Speaks