Zucchini Corn Risotto

Three weeks to the move. The house is in a state of controlled chaos — boxes labeled in Derek's handwriting (precise, alphabetical, with room designations and content summaries because the man cannot simply write "KITCHEN" on a box, he must specify "KITCHEN - SMALL APPLIANCES - MIXER, BLENDER, FOOD PROCESSOR"). I am packing the things that can't be boxed: the feelings. The eleven years of this townhouse. The rebuilding after Terrell. The children who grew up between these walls. The mother who died while I was living here. The husband who moved in and brought two children and changed the shape of everything.

The Cascade Heights house is being painted this week — the interior, the colors I chose. Kitchen: warm white (because kitchens should glow). Living room: sage green (because Mama loved green). Curtis's first-floor suite: soft blue (because Curtis doesn't care about colors but I care about Curtis and blue is calming). Zoe's room: she chose it herself — a deep, saturated gold. Her signature color. The girl who asked for a gold birthday cake and a gold Christmas tree has chosen gold walls and will paint gold art on gold walls and the room will be a treasure chest of a sixteen-year-old's aesthetic confidence.

Cookbook edits nearly done. Katherine says we're on track for a spring publication. The cover design is in progress — they want the Folgers can. I said yes. I said: the can is the book. The can on a worn kitchen counter with a magnolia in the background. Zoe's magnolia. The cover will be Mama's spices and my stepdaughter's tree. The past and the future on the same cover. The line, illustrated.

Made one of the last meals in the College Park kitchen: Mama's smothered chicken with rice and gravy. The comfort food. The Tuesday food. The food that doesn't care about addresses or moves or futures — it just cares about the pot and the heat and the time and the hands. Curtis's hands are his one good hand now, holding a fork in the kitchen where he's lived for two years, eating his dead wife's recipe made by his living daughter, and the eating is the bridge between the dead and the living and the bridge holds. It always holds.

Smothered chicken is Mama’s recipe and always will be, but in the weeks since that last College Park meal, when I’ve needed something that requires the same kind of attention — the standing at the stove, the stirring, the heat and the time — this zucchini corn risotto has filled that space. There’s something about a dish that can’t be rushed, that pulls you into the kitchen and keeps you there, that feels like the right food for a season of in-between. You stir, and you think, and by the time it’s done, something in you has settled too.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups Arborio rice
2 medium zucchini, diced small
1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels
5 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth, warmed
1 small yellow onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup dry white wine
3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
2 tablespoons fresh basil, torn, for garnish

Instructions

Warm the broth. Pour the broth into a small saucepan over low heat. Keep it at a gentle simmer throughout cooking — cold broth will shock the rice and slow the process.
Build the base. In a wide, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
Toast the rice. Add the Arborio rice to the pot. Stir to coat it in the oil and cook for 2 minutes, until the edges of the grains look slightly translucent. You’re building flavor here — don’t skip this step.
Add the wine. Pour in the white wine and stir steadily until it is fully absorbed, about 2 minutes. The steam and smell at this point will be very good.
Add the broth, one ladle at a time. Add 1 ladle of warm broth to the rice and stir until absorbed. Continue adding broth one ladle at a time, stirring frequently and waiting until each addition is absorbed before adding the next. This process takes 20 to 25 minutes. Stay close to the stove.
Add the vegetables. About halfway through the broth additions (after roughly 12 minutes), stir in the zucchini and corn. They will cook through gently as you continue adding broth, absorbing the flavors of the rice.
Finish with butter and cheese. When the last of the broth is absorbed and the rice is creamy and tender with just a slight bite, remove from heat. Stir in the butter and Parmesan vigorously until melted and fully incorporated. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Rest and serve. Let the risotto rest, uncovered, for 2 minutes — it will thicken slightly. Spoon into bowls, top with extra Parmesan, a drizzle of olive oil, and torn fresh basil. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Zucchini Corn Risotto — The Pot and the Heat and the Time and the Hands