Here's a food review not of organic risotto as advertised, but of a three-course impromptu lunch at Little Nest, my neighborhood sanctuary of choice, where the food is fresh, usually organic and prepared with care. And where the chefs, the staff and the owner get to know local farmers and suppliers and, in so doing, exemplify the love and attention to detail that make the world go 'round.

Why no organic risotto to review? Well, I walked four blocks to Little Nest yesterday and ordered organic risotto at 12:45 pm or so, only to find out the last order of the risotto special (mushroom risotto with shaved Parmesan cheese) had been sold. So the chef of the day, Mark Cornett, cognizant of the flash of disappointment that crossed my face, decided to improvise a three-course lunch to make up for the too-popular risotto:

1. Salad of roasted beets, shaved fennel, goat’s cheese and watercress on a base of walnut hummus



2. Roasted butternut squash soup with parsley and pistachio pesto



3. Poached egg with roasted mushroom and caramelized onion alongside an arugula and shaved Parmesan cheese salad topped with hazelnuts, toasted multi-grain baguette

At first I was disappointed that my promise to readers of reviewing organic risotto wouldn't be possible.

Then a funny thing happened: the first course arrived. I surveyed the creamy dollops of goat cheese and the not-too-firm wedges of roasted beet, shavings of fennel, tendrils of watercress on the walnut hummus. The aroma of a light vinaigrette enticed.

I placed my fork into the walnut hummus, making sure to capture some fresh goat cheese, a small piece of roasted beet and shaved fennel. As the flavors merged in my mouth, any lingering sense of no-risotto disappointment vaporized. Instead I became lost in the salad's textures: the creaminess of the goat cheese, the smooth, robust weightiness of the walnut hummus, the crispiness of the shaved fennel, the firm intensity and sweetness of the roasted beet-and the delicacy and, yes, even the vulnerability (sigh) of the watercress.

Next came the roasted butternut squash soup with the parsley and pistachio pesto resting like a medallion at the center of the bowl. The soup was perfectly hot: Not so hot as to burn the tongue but at a kind of peak heat that made it possible to taste hints of cayenne and other spices I couldn't identify. The parsley and pistachio pesto made a delightful companion to the roasted squash, bringing to bear both Mediterranean and Middle Eastern influences.

At this point, I was bowled over and giddy, unable to imagine eating a third course. Luckily, there was about ten minutes between the second course and the third, which allowed my mind to be silently appreciative and grateful for the first two courses and also for my body to assimilate the food, just enough at least to accept a coming delight.

By that I mean the third course: Delectable poached egg, just so, combined with morsels of roasted mushroom (only one piece of mushroom was slightly too salty) and finely, tenderly sliced caramelized onion. Sublime with the next forkful-leaves of arugula, shaved Parmesan cheese and a couple of pieces of chopped hazelnut-and followed by a crunchy bite of toasted multi-grain baguette with plenty of melted butter.

Indeed, this was not a harrowing lunch; living to tell the tale of a lost risotto and a found (and wholly unexpected) three-course culinary extravaganza is hardly heroic. Thanks for the fine meal go to Mark Cornett and Craig Wright, the chefs at Little Nest, and to Mary Macintyre, the pastry chef and proprietor, all of whom understand humans' primal need for local sanctuary and for healthy relationships between farmers, other food producers, cooks and, ultimately, all of us who, through eating, connect consciously and unconsciously with nature and the hard work of many.

And in case you're wondering, it wasn't a free lunch. I paid, gladly.