Partly because this isn't pasta, it's rice.

Let me back up. I maintain a lot of irrational grudges against people, things and concepts that are unlikely to respond or care, and one of the things I hate for no good reason is the 'pasta bake'. I will gladly douse pasta with some kind of sauce and shove it in the oven - witness my dedication to macaroni cheese - but 'pasta bake' strikes me as a food invented out of wholecloth by unimaginative marketing executives trying to reach the lucrative Better Homes & Gardens P&C mum demographic. It makes me think of someone upending a jar of chicken tonight over a cooked packet of Black & Gold spirals, and I suddenly discover a sneering Anglo disdain for 'the lower classes' I didn't realise I had.

But I've had Heidi's baked farro risotto bookmarked for ages, and, man, did I ever want to have myself a dinner of toothsome, barely cooked grains welded together in a sturdy sauce, even though baked risottos should be on my list of Things I Hate for No Good Reason.  For me, the best part of a risotto is the stirring and the staring into the middle distance, and it's beyond me why anyone would want to dispense with that.

That said, baked risotto is a very different beast to cooked risotto. It's much more, shall we say, firm, and it has a life-giving cheesy crust. And if the words 'cheesy crust' don't make you want to thrust a casserole full of dinner into the oven, then I don't know what will.

Baked risotto
Serves 2 hungry people. Adapted from 101 Cookbooks.

A tin of chopped tomatoes
A garlic clove, smashed
Fat pinch of chilli flakes
An onion, chopped (I used red)
1 1/4 cups vegetable stock
Grated zest of a lemon
2 tsp capers, drained and coarsely chopped
Small handful of basil leaves, sliced
3/4 cup arborio rice
1/2 cup grated parmesan

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. Heat a slug of oil in a small pan over medium-high heat, then stir in the smashed garlic clove.  Cook for a minute until barely colouring, then stir in the tomatoes, chilli flakes and a good amount of salt and pepper.  Cook for around 5 minutes until the tomatoes no longer taste raw, then set aside.

You have two options here: either make this in the kind of cast iron casserole that can go from stove to oven, or do the stove part in a large saucepan, then transfer to a baking dish. Either way, heat another slug of oil in your chosen pan over medium-high heat. Stir in the onion and cook for a minute or two until barely translucent.  Stir in the rice and cook until the grains are totally coated in oil and perhaps look a touch translucent around the edges.  Stir in the stock, followed by the tomato sauce, capers and basil.  Bring to a bare simmer, then remove from heat and stir in half of the cheese. Either decant the lot to a baking dish and cover it with foil, or cover your casserole with a lid. 

Transfer your the covered risotto to the oven and bake for 30 minutes. Uncover, and check to see if the grains are cooked. If so, sprinkle with cheese and bake for another 5-10 minutes to crisp up. Serve immediately.