Lemony Spring Orzotto with Asparagus, Green Beans & Pistachio Mint Pesto

A late newsletter (again), a heavy heart, and a bowl of spring...

Dear friends,

This week’s newsletter is late. Again.

Why? Because on Tuesday, I sat beside the hospital bed of another family member I love deeply as they passed away. After nearly a week away from home, trying to hold it together while everything else unraveled, I got very little done—work, writing, planning, cooking. Honestly, I’m on grief overload.

It’s been just over four months since losing my dad. Now this. They call it compounded grief, I think. But the name doesn’t matter much when what you're feeling is this heavy. What matters is finding a way through. And right now, my way through is just putting one foot in front of the other—and writing to you, even late, even messy, even when my heart is hurting.

I want to apologize that this newsletter has, unintentionally, become part of the fallout of this deeply painful season of my life. It wasn’t the plan, and it’s certainly not the polished presence I usually try to maintain. But it is the truth. And if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that hard seasons don’t last forever. Eventually, the sharp edges dull. Eventually, I will look back at the growth I was forced to do and try to carry forward the lessons with grace.

So today, I offer you something simple, bright, and deeply nourishing:
Lemony Spring Orzotto with Asparagus, Green Beans & Pistachio Mint Pesto

There’s something about spring that makes you crave meals that are full of light—something green and alive, but still warm and grounding. That’s exactly what this dish delivers. It’s creamy without cream, comforting without weight, vibrant without effort.

Instead of risotto, we’re using orzo—those tiny rice-shaped pasta bits that cook faster and absorb flavor beautifully. As it simmers, we fold in fresh asparagus, green beans, and peas for crunch and color. Then we swirl in a generous spoonful of homemade pistachio mint pesto at the end. It’s aromatic, nutty, fresh, and just the thing to make a weeknight dinner feel like a small celebration.

It’s the kind of dish that doesn’t ask too much of you. Just a bit of stirring, a bit of chopping, a bit of lemon zest. And in return, it offers a bowl of comfort that feels a little bit like hope.

Thank you, as always, for being here. For reading, cooking, and holding space.

With love and gratitude,
Veronica