Since returning from England last Sunday, a few pounds heavier on the scales and a few pounds lighter in the wallet, I decided to attempt a detox week. When I say detox, we’re not talking wheatgrass shots, carrot juice and expensive pills. We’re just talking fish and chicken rather than red meat, plenty of fresh fruit and veg, and laying off the alcohol for a few days.
Needless to say, the latter part of this has been a complete disaster. As soon as I stop drinking, my body goes into meltdown and I immediately come down with a cold. Plus, I am bored out of my skull, sleeping badly, and probably grumpy to everyone I meet. Which is not very many people, because obviously I can’t actually leave my apartment (other than to go to work) without ending up in a pub/bar/restaurant/gutter, glass in hand.
However, one of the few silver linings to my self-imposed torture has been the discovery of orzo. I mean, I was generally aware of its existence before, and had probably even eaten it a couple of times, but I’d never actually bought it to cook. I realise orzo is not exactly a seasonal ingredient – it’s a pasta shape. But it seems to have dominated my July so far and, besides, after 48 monthly seasonal food blog posts, I’m running out of fruit and veg I haven’t already covered.
First time, I played it safe and cooked the orzo like regular pasta, boiled for 10-12 minutes, and turned it into a salad with roasted vegetables, feta, toasted pine nuts and dried cranberries. No meat! God I felt healthy…
But the second time, I wanted to see how versatile these tiny almond-shaped grains could be. So I treated them like Arborio rice and turned them into a kind of risotto with saffron and fennel. The orzo-risotto would clearly have been better cooked with a good slosh of white wine, but that would have meant opening a bottle – which clearly would have been suicide for the detox. So I drizzled it with lemon juice at the end instead, and served it topped with a flat white fish I’d never heard of called “schar” in Dutch. This helpful bilingual fish website translates it as “dab” in English, but since I hadn’t come across that term either it might make more sense if I tell you it’s like sole, but smaller. The risotto element and the fish element worked very well individually, but when put on the same plate the bones from the fish were liable to lose themselves among the small grains of pasta, making for a fairly painstaking eating experience. Note to self: next time, buy fillets.
Five days into detox week and I think I’ve had enough. Tonight I’m going out for dinner to Restaurant Graves with one of my best friends who I haven’t seen in weeks. Wine will be drunk, and all will be right again with the world.
