risotto primavera with asparagus, peas, and fava beans

For me, springtime is the most joyous season of the year—a rebirth of nature and a true awakening of the senses. This is most evident at the farmers’ market, where precious gifts of vibrant color and flavor delight both the eyes and the palate in the form of asparagus, peas, and fava beans. With the arrival of these “first fruits” of spring—known in Italy as le primizie—comes a classic dish that marries them together and pays homage to the season: Risotto Primavera.

I await this time of year with quiet anticipation, not by the calendar but by the moment they finally appear at market. Tall bundles of asparagus standing at attention, candy-sweet peas tucked in their pods, long fava bean pods piled high in tangled heaps. I slow my pace from stand to stand, choosing each ingredient with care, gathering the season with reverence.

At home, the ritual continues. The vegetables are spread across the counter, and I take my time—shelling peas, slipping fava beans from their skins, trimming asparagus into small, round coins. These small, repetitive tasks feel less like work and more like a quiet, spiritual preparation before a celebratory event.

Risotto Primavera is the natural choice for these early spring vegetables—their vivid greenness punctuating the creamy white rice like splashes of paint on a blank canvas. It is a dish that asks for patience and attention, a gentle stirring and steady presence. Ladle by ladle, the broth is absorbed as the rice slowly cooks, releasing its delicate creaminess. The blanched vegetables are added at just the right moment, preserving their bright color and tenderness.

There is something deeply satisfying in this process—nothing rushed, nothing forced. Much like spring itself, the dish unfolds gradually, revealing its beauty in stages. Each mouthful carries the sweetness of peas, the earthiness of fava beans, and the herbaceous notes of asparagus, tied together by the freshness of parsley and mint.

It’s a dish I return to year after year, not out of habit, but out of longing—for that first taste of spring, for the sense of renewal it brings, and for the quiet joy of honoring the season at its peak. Served simply, perhaps with a glass of crisp Sauvignon Blanc, Risotto Primavera becomes more than a dish. It is an ode to springtime, each bite a celebration of the season’s first and finest offerings.

Looking for more Italian springtime recipes? Try my Savory Easter Tar t and Nonna’s Italian Apple Cake

RISOTTO PRIMAVERA
Springtime Risotto with Asparagus, Peas, Fava Beans
{Recipe}
Copyright, 2012, Deborah Dal Fovo, All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.

Serves 4

1 pound/454g asparagus, washed
1½ pounds/680g spring peas in pods, shelled (1½ cups peas)
1 pound/454g fava beans in pods, shelled (1 cup beans)
3 tablespoons/45g extra virgin olive oil
6 tablespoons/85g cold butter, cut into dice
1 small leek, weighing about ½ pound/227g
1½ cups/300g Carnaroli, Vialone Nano, or Arborio rice
Handful Italian parsley leaves, finely chopped
8 mint leaves, finely chopped
1½ ounces/45g freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano or Grana Padano cheese (¾ cup)
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Trim the asparagus using the bend and snap method: hold a single stalk with one hand in the middle
and the other near the bottom end. Gently bend the stalk until it snaps at its natural breaking point, separating the tender top from the tough, woody bottom. Use this top half as a guide to trim the remaining asparagus using a knife, reserving the woody ends for broth. Cut the asparagus tips off the trimmed stalks and set aside, then cut the stalks crosswise into ¼ inch rounds.

Trim the green parts and root end from the leek to obtain a 5-inch/12cm piece of the white part. Cut this tender part in half lengthwise and remove the tough outermost layers, reserving them for the broth. Place the leek halves, flat side down, on the cutting board and cut crosswise into thin slices. Place the leeks in a bowl of cold water, agitating the water with your fingers to release any soil. Lift leeks out of the water and place in a strainer (do not pour through strainer or the soil will remain).

Fill a large bowl with cold water and ice cubes and set near stove. In a saucepan, bring 3 quarts water to a boil. Season the water with 1 tablespoon salt then add asparagus tips and cook for 2 minutes. Lift the tips from the water and transfer to the ice water bath for 2 minutes, then remove with slotted spoon and dry on paper towels. Place the fava beans in the boiling water and cook for 5 minutes. Transfer the beans to the ice water bath for 2 minutes then remove and drain. Add the asparagus rounds and peas to the boiling water and cook for 4 minutes then remove and transfer to the ice water bath and drain.

Rinse the reserved outer leaves of the leek under cold running water and place in the boiling water. Add the woody asparagus trimmings to the water. Reduce the heat to low and simmer until needed as the broth for the risotto. Remove the leek leaves and asparagus trimmings before cooking the risotto.

Skin the fava beans by pinching one end open and squeezing the opposite end to release the inner bean, discarding the skins.

In a large, heavy bottomed sauté pan, place the olive oil, half the butter (keep remaining butter cold), leeks, and 2 tablespoons water over medium heat. Sprinkle with salt and cook until the leeks are tender, and all the water has evaporated. Add the rice and toss to coat in the cooking oils using a wooden spoon. Toast the rice for a couple minutes, stirring constantly, until the rice grains edges are glassy and translucent with opaque white “eyes” in the center.

Pour two ladles of hot broth into the pan to cover the rice by a thin veil. Cook at a gentle simmer, stirring often, until a good portion of the broth has been absorbed, and the rice is no longer covered by liquid. Continue adding broth when needed to cover the rice and cook the risotto, stirring occasionally, for 13 minutes.

Add the cooked vegetables (not the asparagus tips) to the risotto and continue cooking, adding broth and stirring as needed, for 3 to 5 minutes until the rice is ‘al dente’, or tender yet firm to the bite, and the risotto is loose but with little liquid remaining. Stir in the chopped herbs and remove from heat.

Add the cold butter cubes and most of the grated cheese to the risotto (reserve a couple tablespoons to garnish). Vigorously whip the risotto using the wooden spoon to mantecare or blend and create a creamy emulsion that binds the grains. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed. Let the risotto rest for 5 minutes then pour onto warmed plates. Arrange the asparagus tips on each serving then sprinkle lightly with reserved cheese and serve.

Once in a blue moon, I come across a recipe that surprises me. This Magic Lemon Pudding is one of those. When my food writing mentor and friend, Tori Ritchie, posted a genius recipe for Lemon Meringue Pudding on her blog, I was intrigued. She found it in her mother’s recipe box and it was an oldie-but-goodie dessert that her family enjoyed for decades. Not only did the vintage recipe’s name pique my curiosity (after all, who doesn’t love the taste and textures of lemon meringue pie), but the easy, breezy one-bowl batter that magically transforms in the oven into a multi-layer dessert with silky lemon curd layer and spongy cake topping made my mouth water. I had to try it—only there was a slight problem. The recipe called for milk and flour in addition to Meyer lemons, sugar, and eggs. I’ve been avoiding gluten and dairy for health concerns and this recipe was theoretically a no-no. But I’ve always hated the word “no” and was determined to have my pudding and eat it too. So, into kitchen I went to try and adapt the recipe to be both gluten-free and dairy-free.

Developing recipes is like playing mad scientist. You add a little of this, less of that, a pinch of something else until—presto, you get it right. The alchemist in me loves to fiddle with recipes because I never know what will happen along the way. That’s exactly how this went. After posting a photo of my first test pudding on Instagram, I got a comment from a woman saying it was her favorite childhood dessert too—only her mother’s English recipe was called Lemon Delicious. Hmmmm, I thought, let me investigate this further. After some research, I found an (almost) identical baked lemon pudding recipe that was popular in Britain and Australia decades ago but also contained butter. The recipe plot just thickened! What at first glance seemed to be an easy adaptation suddenly turned into a whole other pudding—I had just gone down the recipe writing rabbit hole ; )

Like the Rolling Stone’s song “I can’t get no satisfaction”, gluten-free recipe adaptations seldom taste or behave like their wheat-containing predecessors. Especially in baking, where the gluten in wheat flour thickens and binds ingredients in a way non-wheat flours don’t. For that reason, a thickening agent like tapioca, potato flour, or cornstarch is added to gluten-free flour. Then there’s the substititution of the milk. I’ve tried many non-dairy plant-based milks like almond, coconut, and cashew but don’t get the same satisfaction (there’s that “s” word again) that cows’ milk gives me—with the happy exception of oat milk. Oat milk’s creamy consistency and neutral flavor makes it more similar to cows’ milk than nut milk, without adding extra flavor. I also chose oat flour to sub in for the wheat flour to keep the taste uniform and because I find it performs well in gluten-free baking.

The beauty of this Magic Lemon Pudding is that the batter is quick and easy to whip up in one bowl before pouring into a single baking dish or individual ramekins. That means less clean up (don’t we all love that?). First, I beat my egg whites in a squeaky-clean mixing bowl until light and fluffy then slide them into a smaller bowl while I use the same, unwashed mixing bowl to mix the other ingredients before gently folding the egg whites back in. This gives the batter its airiness, which—when baked in a bain-marie—causes it to rise like a cake and (I suspect) magically separate into layers. Beating the egg yolks with cornstarch and sugar until creamy before adding the zest, lemon juice, oat milk, and oat flour separately insures that each ingredient blends smoothly for a lump-free pudding. It’s worthwhile to use Meyer lemons—a hybrid of citron and mandarin orange—whose golden skin adds beautiful color and sweet juices a delicate lemon flavor without the tartness.

After all my testing, the proof was (literally) in the pudding. Just like Goldilocks, I tested—and tasted—each variation of the original recipe. One was too soft, one too stiff, another too lumpy, until finally—one was just right! The batter made with oat milk, oat flour, and cornstarch separated beautifully into a golden lid of spongy soufflé-like cake that, when pierced with a spoon, revealed a luscious lemony pudding beneath—just like the original recipe. I’m not sure how it happens but it’s so magical that I’m calling my gluten-free and dairy-free recipe: Magic Lemon Pudding. If you’re a lemon lover like me, this recipe will become a favorite of yours too!

GLUTEN-FREE & DAIRY FREE
MAGIC LEMON PUDDING

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on February 7, 2020

I renamed this recipe Magic Lemon Pudding because the easy breezy, one-bowl batter magically transforms in the oven into a multi-layer dessert with silky lemon curd layer and souffle-like cake topping. My gluten-free and dairy-free recipe is adapted from Tori Ritchie’s Tuesday Recipe for Lemon Meringue Pudding. ©2020 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 15m
Cook Time: 40m

Serves: 6
Category: Baked Goods, Baking, Dairy Free, Desserts - Dolci, Gluten Free, Recipes

Ingredients

Unsalted butter, for greasing baking dish/es
3 large eggs, at room temperature
Pinch of salt
1 tablespoon cornstarch
3/4 cup/150 g granulated white or cane sugar
Grated zest of 1 Meyer lemon (regular lemon can be substituted)
1/3 cup/80 ml Meyer or regular lemon juice
1 cup/240 ml gluten-free oat milk, at room temperature
1/4 cup/25 g gluten-free oat flour
Powdered sugar to garnish (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350°F/180°C. Bring a kettle of water to boil.
Grease an 8-inch glass baking dish (or six 1-cup ramekins) with butter. Select a larger baking dish or roasting pan that the baking dish/ramekins will comfortably fit into with space around to create a bain-marie.
Separate the eggs and place egg whites and a pinch of salt into the clean, dry bowl of a stand mixer with whisk attachment. Beat egg whites on medium speed until thick and frothy then increase speed and beat until they hold stiff (but not dry) peaks. Using a spatula, scrape the mounted egg whites into a separate bowl and set aside.
Place the egg yolks and cornstarch in the mixer bowl (without washing it or the whisk attachment) and beat briefly until smooth. With the machine running, add the sugar in increments and beat until mixture is pale and creamy.
Add the zest and lemon juice and mix to combine then pour in the oat milk and mix well.
Add the oat flour and beat briefly until smoothly incorporated without overworking.
Using a rubber spatula, gently fold one-third of the egg whites into the lemon batter. Add another third of the egg whites, incorporating well without deflating batter, then fold in remaining whites until batter is smooth and airy.
Pour batter into greased baking dish/es and place in the larger pan. Position pan in the center of oven rack and carefully pour boiling water from the kettle into outer pan until it comes about halfway up the sides of inner dish/es. Bake until golden brown on top, 35 to 40 minutes. Let cool slightly, then spoon the pudding into dessert bowls, dust with powdered sugar, and serve warm.