Roasted Broccoli Farro Bowls -- The Accountant Never Leaves the Kitchen

Pioneer Day at my parents' house on the twenty-fourth. Tyler drove down from Boise. Brittany came up from Sandy. The twins — Josh and Katie — were five minutes late, as they have been since 1985. My mother made the rolls and supervised Katie kneading them and said 'You're overworking the dough,' which is the inheritance Katie is going to receive whether she wants it or not. My father said grace at a table that seated twenty-three. He thanked the Lord for the harvest, the family, the freedom of religion, the country, the Saints, and Mason — by name — for fixing the back porch railing earlier in the week. The food was Mormon picnic food. The afternoon was long. I felt, for a moment, like the quiet Cooper kid again.

It rained Tuesday morning and I took it personally, which is unfair to weather but accurate to my mood. The week was a summer week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

Brandon golfed Saturday morning, attended his executive secretary meeting Sunday morning, and did the dishes Wednesday night, which is the rhythm of our life now. We have been married a long time. The arithmetic of it is the arithmetic of my whole life. There were years we missed each other in the same room, and there are years we find each other in the silences, and this is one of the latter, and I am old enough now to know that the latter is the achievement and the former was the cost.

The recipe of the week was seven-layer salad, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. Sunday prep is twenty-eight bags. I time myself. The accountant never leaves. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 21, in Manila on his mission, and his last email mentioned a chicken adobo so good he is going to make me make it when he comes home. Olivia is 19, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason, 16, is in Brazil on his mission. His weekly emails are short and full of jokes. He does not write much about the work. He writes about the food. Lily is 14, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 12, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

I will close the laptop in a moment. I will go to bed. I will get up tomorrow. The freezer will be there. The photograph will be there. The work will be there. So will I.

The seven-layer salad fed eight and cost under fifteen dollars, and it will always be the recipe I write about this week — but the bowl that carried the rest of the week, the one that went into the rotation alongside it while Brandon chopped and the conversation ran long, was this roasted broccoli farro bowl. It is the kind of recipe that does not ask anything of you by Tuesday. You make it Sunday. It is there. That is the whole philosophy, and this bowl lives it.

Roasted Broccoli Farro Bowls

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 cup dry farro, rinsed
• 2 1/2 cups water or low-sodium vegetable broth
• 4 cups broccoli florets (about 1 large head)
• 1 can (15 oz) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 3 tablespoons tahini
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon water (to thin dressing)
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes, chopped
• 2 tablespoons toasted pumpkin seeds

Instructions

1. Cook the farro. Combine farro and broth (or water) in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer 25–30 minutes until farro is tender and liquid is absorbed. Fluff with a fork and season lightly with salt.
2. Roast the broccoli and chickpeas. Preheat oven to 425°F. Spread broccoli florets and chickpeas on a large rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil and toss with garlic powder, smoked paprika, red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper. Roast 20–22 minutes, stirring once halfway, until broccoli is charred at the edges and chickpeas are crispy.
3. Make the tahini dressing. Whisk together tahini, lemon juice, minced garlic, remaining 1/2 tablespoon olive oil, and 1 tablespoon water until smooth and pourable. Season with salt and pepper. Add another teaspoon of water if needed to reach a drizzleable consistency.
4. Assemble the bowls. Divide farro evenly among four bowls or meal-prep containers. Top with roasted broccoli and chickpeas. Scatter sun-dried tomatoes and toasted pumpkin seeds over each bowl. Drizzle with tahini dressing just before serving, or pack dressing separately for meal prep.
5. Store for the week. Refrigerate assembled bowls (dressing separate) for up to 4 days. For freezer prep, store farro and roasted vegetables together in freezer-safe bags for up to 3 months; thaw overnight and add fresh dressing before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 10g | Sodium: 310mg