I really thought I could make it. The dish seemed so simple; a plate of creamy polenta,  layered with soft, savory taleggio and parmesan, the rich yolk oozed like a golden lava flow as I punctured the egg with my fork. It was sublime, and of course I kept thinking to myself, I could totally do this at home, nothing to it. Piece of cake.

Um yeah. In capable hands, maybe. My attempt at recreating the dish I had at the wonderful Tasting Kitchen in Venice weeks earlier was a total flop. To be honest, I’m not really sure where I went wrong. All I can remember was sitting down with a bowl of this stuff after wasted hours in the kitchen cooking and shooting and not even being able to finish even half of it. It was just blah. So bad, that the previous fond memories of the original were muddled and tainted by the failed copy. I had basically written off the idea until a few days later, while shopping for another dish, I had a light bulb moment. What if I replaced the polenta with risotto? And while I’m at it, add some bacon, because who doesn’t love bacon and eggs. And ditch the taleggio because the wet sock thing wasn’t doing it for me.

Ok, so I ended up with a completely different dish. Every bit as good as the inspiration, if not better. The poached egg goes so well with the cheesy risotto, and the texture of the rice is more comforting than polenta. It is a little more breakfast-themed, which is totally doable on a weekend morning, but if we can have breakfast 24 hours a day at Denny’s, why not this risotto for dinner? Just skip the coffee if you plan on sleeping after.

Mmm… farmers’ market eggs. Get the best ones you can, because it’s all about the eggs!

For cheese, I went with a Comté, or French Gruyere. Melts nicely and partners up well with Parmesan.

There’s that lava flow I was talking about.

I have to tell you about my new favorite pasta. I’m absolutely in love with orecchiette (oh-rayk-kee-EHT-teh), a dimple of a pasta with a funny name. Orecchiette, which actually means “little ears” in Italian, is typically made by pressing the thumb into a small round of pasta dough against a wooden board. The resulting rough irregular shape does resemble a little ear, though the commercially available versions are more uniformly dome-shaped. A good quality orecchiette will have a textured or ridged outer surface, which beautifully clings onto sauce while the saucer-like concave side is perfect for grabbing onto little nuggets of goodness. With its toothsome bite, this pasta eats surprisingly heartily, which also makes it well suited for pairing with vegetables and lighter ingredients.

My favorite preparation of orecchiette is simply with Italian sausage and rapini (also known as broccoli rabe). The combination came to me while perusing my local market as I was trying to let the freshest ingredients inspire the dish. Here I was thinking I was being creative and resourceful, to later find out that orecchiette with sausage and rapini is quite a classic pairing. So much for originality, but hell, it sure is tasty.

The key to cooking with orecchiette, in my opinion, is to make all the ingredients similarly sized. In this dish, the ground sausage meat, diced onion, and chopped rapini are all easily picked up by the dimples of the pasta, cradling flavor with every fork or spoonful. On the topic of flavor, the semi-one pot nature of this dish helps to build layers upon layers of it. The sausage browns first, then the onions get sauteed in the pork fat. The rapini and garlic gets cooked in the same pot as well, the steam from the leaves helps pull off the fond or brown crusty bits. A generous handful of cheese at the end lends richness and an extra hint of salt, while the lemon-scented breadcrumbs adds a nice textural contrast and a bright citrusy note. If you’re pressed for time, skip the breadcrumbs but do add the lemon zest to the dish.

I do have to admit that I haven’t tried making orecchiette any other way, though many ideas come to mind (with gorgonzola and crumbled bacon, cold with pesto and ripe cherry tomatoes, or a with rich hearty bolognese). I’m just content for now to have it this way, because it’s so good.