 Why
I don't know, but as cooks we tend to mess up a good thing-pushing
creativity past common sense, often to the detriment of classical
dishes that don't need to be gussied-up with frivolous adornments.
Case in point, "Piedmontese White Truffled Risotto, Studded with
Slivers of Sautéed Foie Gras and Garnished with Sun-Dried Peppercorns
from Madagascar and Shavings of Norwegian Salmon Red Caviar: $40.00"
How ridiculous. The aforementioned is just rice with mushrooms,
goose liver, pepper and fish eggs. Now mind you, these are all terribly
good ingredients, often in partnership with one another, but can't
we just leave things alone? Sometimes simple foods are the best
foods, and for good reason. Taste and common sense should prevail
when it comes to preparing risotto. To just throw a bunch of expensive
ingredients in the pot and call it "haute cuisine" is a disservice
to a dish that deserves better treatment.
Let me share a few specific examples of what I mean, using two occasions
in the past year when I witnessed the pain that cooks can inflict
upon risotto.
The scene was the MasterChef USA Competition. Filmed in Los Angeles
and aired on PBS, it has been just over a year since I competed
in the amateur Olympics of cooking. Thus, I think I can safely provide
a serious critique of my fellow competitors without fear of reprisal
— I just won't reveal their real names.
First, let's review the "Risotto Studded with Grapefruit, Lime and
Chili" put forth by Seattle's own "Mr. Vegan" during the Northwest
Regional round of the competition.
In the recipe description, Chef Vegan dictated that he would, "de-membrane
the grapefruit then cut out the individual nodules of the fruit."
Oh dear. Let us consider how pompous this sounds, not to mention
the intensive labor involved in such a process. Can you imagine
actually poking out tiny nuggets from a little slice of grapefruit,
all under the intense pressure of a timed and filmed television
cooking competition?
Secondly, risotto is a savory dish respected for its rich and creamy
consistency. The bitter citrus tang of grapefruit and lime combined
with the powering heat of chilies is a disgrace to risotto tradition.
When it came to the judging, Chef Vegan's miscalculations were exposed
— he ran out of time cutting grapefruit and forgot the lime
and chili. He ended up just dumping the grapefruit into the saucepan
and stirring it into the rice. The result was beautifully rich risotto
ruined by acrid fruit juice. (Look in a glass of milk when you pour
in some lemon juice and you get the picture. The milk immediately
separates itself from the lemon juice, crying out as if to say,
"Why did you do that to me?")
The flavors of his risotto were totally at odds with one another.
And the lack of sound preparation technique heightened the problems
within a dish that was already headed for disaster. It was not pleasant
listening to the critique of the judges.
Now I will move on to example number two and one "Ms. Purple Basil,"
a very nice young woman from San Francisco whom I competed against
during the Western Regional round of the competition. I liked her,
we had a good conversation and she was fun to cook with, but why,
why my dear, did you combine a traditional Italian rice dish with
Thai cuisine? In this instance, fusion went too far.
Ms. Basil's entrée was a "Red Curry Glazed Duck Breast accompanied
by a Risotto Studded with Lemongrass and Chilies." Oh God, there
they were again, the ubiquitous chilies.
 Now
this sounds like a very good idea: spicy, rich duck meat that has
been slathered with intense curry paste and paired with satiny rice
that has been sweetened with coconut. However, what appears in print
to be good concept is not always what ends up being delicious at
the table.
As with Chef Vegan, Ms. Basil made a critical error in the execution
of the dish.
First, by substituting coconut milk for the stock that is traditionally
used in risotto, the rice cooked into a sweet rice pudding —
more a dessert than a side dish.
Secondly, risotto is best when eaten hot, brought straight away
from the kitchen to the table. As risotto cools, the starch in the
rice cools, and the longer it waits, the harder it gets.
So as Ms. Basil waited upwards of 45 minutes for the judges to taste
her creation, the risotto, as it was called, turned into a block
of concrete.
My personal suggestion would have been to create the same recipe,
just make a minor change in the preparation, presentation and name
of the dish.
For example, I like the idea of a sweet rice element to counteract
the intense flavor of the duck meat. But I might have added some
Chinese sausage and black mushrooms to the rice, then wrapped it
with banana leaves into little packets. Steaming the rice packets
is a fail-safe technique that would have kept the rice moist and
hot and prevented raising the hackles of the judging panel. And
it might have been a better partner to the duck, "Coconut Rice Steamed
in Banana Leaves."
Risotto, (Italian for rice), is the namesake dish of the Lombardy
region of Northern Italy, Milan being the capital city. In fact,
the residents of the region consume much more rice than pasta, the
more famous of Italian starches. "Risotto Milanese," (with saffron
and served with Osso Bucco) is the most well-known risotto of the
area.
 A
good risotto must start with the rice, and a very special rice it
is. Arborio (pronounced "are-bore-ee-o") is harvested in abundance
throughout the "Po Valley" region of Lombardy. Rice needs plenty
of water to grow, and the Po Valley is fed by the Ticino, Adda,
Oglio and Po Rivers.
America grows good stocks of Arborio, much of it in the irrigated,
mineral rich Sacramento Valley of California. (Home to many other
varieties of rice.)
The high-starch kernels of the Arborio grain are shorter and fatter
than those of any other medium grain rice, and have a distinctive
white dot in the center of the grain. Therefore, as the rice cooks,
lots of starch is released, lending Risotto its requisite creamy
texture.
Risotto is easy to make, yet many cooks are scared of making it
because too many cookbooks, and budding MasterChefs (Chef Vegan),
make it appear to be incredibly tough to prepare.
Let me put your mind at ease. Risotto only takes 8 basic ingredients;
rice, butter, olive oil, shallots, wine, stocks, herbs and cheese.
But as with any great cooking, you should use the best ingredients
you can find, like real parmesano-reggiano cheese.
To begin, the shallots are quickly sautéed in butter and olive oil
until translucent and then the wine is added and cooked down until
almost all of the liquid is evaporated. Then the rice is added.
The butter and oil coats the rice so that each grain will stand
alone and not stick together.
Traditionally, white wine is used to "deglaze" the rice; however
red wine in risotto makes a formidable accompaniment to, say, roasted
red meats like beef or lamb.
At this point it is time to add the stock. Adding stock begins the
process of drawing starch out of the rice, which makes the risotto
creamy.
 I
vary the type of stock used in risotto based on what I intend to
be the face of the final dish. For example, in a basic risotto I
use chicken stock. If I am adding fresh spring asparagus and wild
morel mushrooms, I might use a vegetable stock. My favorite is fish
stock in a risotto that accompanies grilled fish.
One fine detail of note is that the stock must be kept over low
heat and slowly added to the rice. Cold stock will shock the rice
and stop the release of starch. Add the stock in increments of about
a half a cup, and then occasionally stir the rice until the stock
is "soaked up" by the rice. At that point, add more stock.
In terms of labor, no, you do not need to stand over the stove stirring
the rice with a wooden spoon for exactly one hour. Risotto only
takes about 20-25 minutes. You do have to be mindful of the pot
and frequently add stock and stir, tasting the rice along the way
for doneness. But you are certainly not handcuffed to the stove
the entire time. Have a nice glass of wine and chat with your family
while you stir your rice. Keep tasting the rice until it is done
to your liking. Classic risotto is soft, yet with a little bite
in each grain, the same as "al dente" pasta.
At the last minute, add the fresh herbs and the cheese. This will
allow the herbs to release their fragrance and fresh flavors, yet
not wilt into the depths of the risotto. Just before service is
the time to add any additional ingredients to the risotto--but don't
crowd too many seats into the auditorium, a few chairs should be
enough. Maybe some grilled radicchio and dry-cured olives, or a
shellfish risotto with crab, mussels and a squirt of fresh lemon
juice. Keep it simple.
As I mentioned earlier, risotto must be served immediately or the
starch in the rice will cool down and the liquid becomes a glob
of lukewarm muck, much like schoolroom paste. (Now that I think
about it, we used to eat that paste in art class, but that's another
story.)
As I cleared a path through the forest of fish roe, grapefruit pith
and coconut shells, it became quite clear to me. When it comes to
risotto, form, as they say, is more important than fiction.
Risotto
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