Today I’m going to make a risotto in memory of my dad, 'the risotto king'. It’s a recipe that recalls really happy times and will be shared with the people I love.
My dad would stand by the hob with his shirt sleeves rolled up, constantly stirring, sipping wine and chatting; enjoying the slow process, and as long as you keep stirring, the magic comes together.
Seeing my parents’ writing in cookery books or tasting and smelling the dishes they loved brings me real comfort and almost makes me feel as though I'm in their presence again.
