Torta di Riso

The July sun beats down on the homes that surround us, already warmed by their marigold-painted exteriors. Shutters are open, cats nap peacefully on sills, and an occasional resident wisps by us on their humble bicycles. Our skin smells of summer as our shoes stroll along bumpy, cobblestone streets. A quiet afternoon in Parma, Italy.

We walk past a multitude of shops, but one in particular slowed us down. It was precious in every way. Tucked away on a small, forgotten street, it was as inviting as the afternoon was lazy. The window, with only the word paneterria painted on it, displayed a counter swollen with baked goods. The sight begged us to enter the store.

The smell of sweetness slowly crept up our noses when we opened the door. Our eyes were dancing over the shops' offerings, when Charlie uttered a quiet gasp. His eyes spotted it, finding finally what we have been searching for all day. Torta di Riso.

Sitting on the curb outside our treasured bakery we opened the bag and took out our prized purchase. Charlie has only heard his nona speak of this dessert, and now, he can happily eat what years of description tastes like. He savored it longingly. I look down at my half and admire the odd-looking snack. It is a wedge of a pie, but a pie I have never encountered. It is moist. It is dense. It is only slightly sweet. Imagine a creamy, lightly sugared risotto, but it is firm, compact. I have never eaten rice in a pie before. It was rich, nutty, and rewarding.

This memory makes every inch of my body warm with fondness. I can hear fans turning the sugared summer air. I can feel the waxy crunch of the paper holding my slice of rice cake. I can taste the almond-scented arborio. At the Piccolo Gourmet, we finally had the guts to try making our own torta di riso. Using recipes in both Italian and in English, we can firmly attest the task was well attempted. It is a testament to the saying "Practice makes perfect". Our results were not great, however, they were not bad either. Practice. And practice more we will. Our hearts will always be walking quietly on those hot July streets, and when our attempts fully bring us back to that Parma panetteria, we will blog our successful recipe.