Foundations: 4 - Risotto

Rice Rice Baby

Hello and welcome back to Foundations!

The idea behind Foundations is simple; I want to teach you what I know about cooking. These are the fundamentals, the building blocks, the stuff that once you understand it, will allow you to become the kind of cook who can open a cupboard or fridge and make something delicious without using a recipe. If you haven’t already, you might like to read the introductory piece explaining this project in more detail here.

This week, we’re talking all about risotto.

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You’re somewhere between zones 2 and 3 on the wrong side of London and it’s taken you an hour to get there. 2 tube lines, a 10 minute bus and a 5 minute walk. You’ve brought a bottle of nice-ish wine, something good enough that you don’t look cheap but nothing great, the sweet spot between the insulting and the superlative. You know that you won’t be drinking it because for some reason, apparently, its rude for the host to open wine that someone has just brought them as a present. Instead, you’ll be tucking into a few glasses of a Californian chardonnay that tastes like the smell of a fridge.

You’re trying to find a rhythm and tempo of crisp-eating that doesn’t look desperate, but it’s 9pm and so far you’ve only had 3 briny Spanish olives. At that moment, your host swans in from the kitchen carrying dinner, like Babette with her feast, and announces to the room at large that you’re all about to enjoy a mushroom risotto. You smile and say “oh wow, thank you, this looks great” in the same way that you do when your aunt gives you a scarf for Christmas.

You sit down, 6 around a 4 person table, and onto your plate is spooned/dropped/ dolloped something that resembles loose cement. It sits there like the contents of the plug hole after a particularly intense round of washing up. You take a cautious bite and begin to daydream enviously of the food of Dickensian workhouses.

The twist in this little tale is that I’m the protagonist. I’m Babette. I’m the host serving you up that absolute clanger of a dinner. Of course, I have embellished the story for dramatic effect (I always serve good wine and never serve bad olives) but there was once a time when I made bad risotto. In fact there were quite a few times, and that’s ok, because I didn’t know better. But many years later, after making a lot of good risotto in some good restaurants, eating a lot of good risotto in some good restaurants, and, most formatively, travelling to Lombardy to revel in the subtle science of rice and starch, I do know better.

It only takes one bad experience to put people off risotto for life. If you currently suffer from PRSD (post risotto stress disorder) remember that you are not to blame. A great injustice has been carried out against you (apologies to my old housemates). The good news is, I’m here to to tell you that risotto can be good, it can be very nice, it can in fact be delicious, and I’ll show you how.

Rice in Italy

If I say “Italian food” you probably don’t think ‘rice’. The first thing that comes to mind is usually pasta or pizza, reasonable considering how prolific wheat growth and consumption is in Italy. But rice has been cultivated in Italy for over a thousand years. In fact, Italians have eaten rice for about the same amount of time they they’ve eaten pasta, possibly even for longer.

The Ancient Greeks and Romans both imported and ate rice from Asia, but the real story of rice in Italy begins with the Arab conquest of Sicily in the 9th Century. At around the same time, Arabs brought rice to Al-Andalus (Muslim ruled Spain and Portugal) and rice cultivation began there too, notably in Valencia, where paella originated.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again - a staggering amount of ‘classical’ European cooking has its roots in this critical point of culinary history, when a wave of ideas, ingredients and methods were brought to Mediterranean Europe from the substantially more advanced civilisations of the Arab/Islamic World and, by extension, countries like Iran and China.

Rice cultivation spread North from Sicily and really ‘settled’ in the regions of Piedmont and Lombardy, which now account for 92% of all rice grown in Italy. It’s widely agreed that this is where risotto originated, but nobody is exactly sure when or how the dish came to be. A delicious mystery.

Pantone 14-1064

Do you know what Pantone 14-1064 is? It’s the colour of legend. It’s the perfect shade of yellow. It’s the colour of a plate of risotto allo zafferano (saffron risotto), or to use its geographical monicker, risotto alla Milanese. La leggenda, come sempre, è più affascinante della realtà. The legend, as always, is more fascinating than the reality. Can you tell us the legend of saffron risotto Jordon? Take a seat.

Our story starts in September 1574 in Milan. Artisans from across Europe have congregated in the city to work on the Duomo Di Milano, the city’s grand cathedral. Amongst them is Valerio of Flanders, master glassmaker, who is here to craft the intricate stained glass windows in this temple of the lord. He has a number of apprentices in his workshop, but there is one in particular who has a natural ability for mixing the paints to colour glass. His affinity for using saffron to create bold and vibrant colours earns him the nickname ‘Zafferano’ (saffron) and Valerio even suggests that he likes the stuff so much he’ll end up eating it.

Before long, just such an opportunity presents itself, the day of Valerio’s daughter’s wedding no less! Zafferano, presumably underpaid as a glassmaker’s assistant and resorting to catering work on the side, has a moment of madness and decides to chuck a handful of saffron into the risotto of the wedding lunch. Guests, initially baffled by the mountain of yellow rice that appeared, were quickly overcome by the fragrant aroma and flavour of the dish and from that moment, saffron cemented its place in the cuisine of Milan.

Seeing as we’ve come this far, I’m going to add my own small continuation to the end of the story and really gild the historical lily. Valerio’s daughter, overcome with emotion from the silky, sumptuous risotto she’s just eaten, stands up and immediately declares her undying love for the cook. She runs from the room, leaving her jilted husband at the table, finds Zafferano in the kitchen and they ride off into the sunset on his horse to elope in the Tuscan hills. If you’ve ever wondered what chefs daydream about, it’s that.

Pantone 14-1064 (left) Risotto Milanese (right)

The Rice Maketh the Risotto

Risotto is about so much more than what you flavour it with. To put it bluntly, good risotto is about good rice. I can make a great bowl of pasta if I start with great pasta and I can still make a good bowl of pasta if I start with bad pasta, but I can only make an OK-ish plate of risotto if I start with bad risotto rice. It really does make that much difference.

With a lot of rice cookery, the important focus is on minimising the starch content of the dish to avoid claggy, lumpy rice which is all stuck together. Various processes of washing and steaming can do this. With risotto, we’re trying to achieve the opposite and really maximise the starchy potential of the rice, because this is what will make our risotto creamy.

There are a few different types of risotto rice, each with slightly differently characteristics. The three that are the most widely available, especially outside of Italy, are Arborio, Carnaroli and Vialone Nano. Arborio is the most widely available but my least favourite, I like Carnaroli and Vialone Nano equally, and they both make great risotto, but Carnaroli is probably my first recommendation for risotto beginners as it is a bit more resistant to overcooking. The reason for my rice preferences really comes down to one thing, starch.

Starch

Starch is the most widely consumed carbohydrate in the human diet and is abundant in staple foods like potatoes, wheat, corn, cassava and rice. Starch is made up of two molecules, amylopectin and amylose, in various proportions depending on the plant. In the case of risotto rice, its the differences in those proportions that give the different varieties their different properties.

Amylopectin is what gives risotto rice the ability to become creamy as it’s released from the rice into the surrounding liquid, which is then thickened. Amylose is what maintains the structure of the rice itself and stops it completely disintegrating as it’s cooked. The perfect risotto rice needs a good balance between these two properties. I don’t find Arborio as reliable because, although it’s high in amylopectin and so makes for a very creamy risotto, it’s very low in amylose and so the grains themselves often lose too much structure and bite for my liking, and are a lot easier to overcook and become mushy.

Carnaroli and Vialone Nano strike a much better balance between both properties. As the name suggests, Vialone Nano is a bit smaller which means it cooks faster, Carnaroli is usually a little more substantial. Annoyingly, these are a bit harder to find than Arborio, but any good Italian deli and even a big supermarket should have them.

A Dish in Four Acts

Before I give you a simple recipe, let’s quickly look at the four fundamental steps of making a risotto.

1. Cooking your soffritto. Soffritto is often described or assumed to be a mix of onion, carrot and celery, like the French mirepoix, but this isn’t exactly true. A soffritto can be as simple as a few slivers of garlic cooked in olive oil. Think of it as the flavour foundations of your dish. You can pick and choose what you like here, but to me, onion is always essential for risotto. This should be chopped as finely as you can and cooked low and slow (8 mins or so) until completely soft, golden (but not brown) and slightly sweet. In this recipe I’ve added celery too, for its subtle, clean aniseed flavour, but left out carrot which is usually used to provide some sweetness, because the pumpkin/squash provides this.

2. Toasting your rice. Different people have different ideas here, some recipes call for toasting the rice for 4 or 5 minutes, others just until the rice is coated in butter. I like a happy medium. Toasting the rice, which is done towards the end of cooking the soffritto, definitely adds another layer of flavour to the dish (some say it also helps the rice to retain is shape later in cooking) but I think a couple of minutes is enough. Some cooks also suggest that toasting your rice for too long reduces its starch content.

3. Adding your stock. Whatever else you might add to it, risotto is still comprised primarily of two main parts; the rice and the stock the rice is cooked in. For that reason, they both need to be good. This recipe is a continuation from my recipe for chicken stock here which would be a great thing to use. Vegetable stock works well too, and a light seafood stock is delicious with a seafood risotto. Beef stock risotto sounds a bit blokey and weird, I think it would taste like marmite. Having your stock sitting on a low heat so that it’s hot will make the whole process a bit quicker, and help to maintain an even simmering temperature of the rice as you add each ladleful.

4. Mantecatura. I’ve talked before about how as a language, Italian has lots of excellent words related to cooking. Japanese does too. Mantecatura is one of those words, and it comes from the verb ‘mantecare’ which is the act of vigorously stirring or tossing a dish like pasta, gnocchi or risotto to create a homogenous, creamy texture between the carbohydrate and the sauce. Mantecatrua happens right at the end of cooking, off the heat, and often some fat is being added during this process in the form of butter or cheese or both. It’s important that this happens off the heat and that the butter is cold. This is because, just like a beurre monté in French cooking, if the butter you’re trying to emulsify into the sauce gets too hot it will split.

A Vegetable’s Best Friend

Despite the fact that the famous Milanese risotto is often served alongside osso bucco (braised veal shanks), I rarely add meat directly into risotto. Perhaps a little pancetta cooked with your soffritto could be nice, but to my mind big chunks of meat get in the way of what should be a silky affair. Seafood, stirred though right at the end of cooking, has more appeal, but really it’s a good seasonal vegetable that lends itself to this dish.

The recipe below happens to use some pureed pumpkin stirred through towards the end of cooking, but you can follow the exact same method and make any flavour risotto you like. Instead of pureed pumpkin, pureed spinach or cavolo nero work great too. Equally, chunks of pan-fried or roasted courgette or aubergine etc. can all be stirred in at this point.

I’ve used sage because it goes will with pumpkin, but choose a herb that suits your vegetable. Rosemary is great with courgettes (and you can add some fresh mint and pecorino at the end of cooking), thyme is good with aubergine. I always add a pinch of nutmeg to creamed spinach or cavolo nero and you should too.

The only veggie I add at the start (after toasting the rice and before I start adding stock) is mushrooms. This is because the whole dish will then take on a great mushroom flavour as it cooks, and because mushrooms can stand up to simmering in stock for 20 minutes after already being cooked off in a hot pan. If you add something like courgette this early, it will disintegrate into mush by the time the risotto is cooked.

The Recipe

Ingredients (serves 4):

• 500g Pumpkin or Squash

• 10g of Butter + 30g of Cold Butter

• 1 Small Onion, as finely chopped as you can

• 1 Stick of Celery, likewise

• 400g Carnaroli or Vialone Nano rice

• 5 Sage Leaves (I tie them together for easy removal)

• 200ml White Wine

• 1 Litre of Chicken Stock + 200ml (salted just enough that it tastes nice)

• 75g of Parmesan

• Olive Oil

• Salt

• Pepper

Method:

1. Preheat your oven to 200c/400f. Peel then cut the pumpkin or squash in half, use a spoon to scoop out the seeds, then cut into roughly 5 cm chunks. Put them onto a baking tray (lined with greaseproof paper will make your life easier) and drizzle with a generous 2 tbsp olive oil and a big pinch of salt. Toss well to coat, then spread into a single layer. Roast for about 45 mins until soft and browned at the edges. For courgettes, do the same but cube them smaller and cook for 20/25 mins. Aubergines the same.

2. You can prepare the pumpkin in advance, or, if you start the below process once it has been in the oven for 10 minutes, it should be cooked and ready to add once the rice is cooked.

3. A good heavy saucepan is ideal for risotto, especially one with a bit of width which gives more even cooking than having your rice stacked up high in a narrow pan. Place one of these over a medium-low heat and add 10g of butter, a splash of olive oil, the onion, celery and a pinch of salt. Cook for about 8 mins until very soft and golden but not brown. While this cooks, put your stock over a low heat so that it’s hot but not boiling (don’t reduce it!) and if the stock is unsalted, add a few good pinches of salt until it tastes pleasant and seasoned but not overly salty.

4. Add the rice, increase the heat to medium and stir to coat in the butter. Cook for a couple of minutes until lightly toasted, then add the sage leaves and pour in the wine. Stir as the wine bubbles and once it has almost evaporated, add a couple of ladles of stock.

5. Now, the aim of the game is to maintain a pretty steady, simmering pot of rice and stock, stirring every minute or so and adding another ladleful of stock every couple of minutes once most of the previous ladleful has been absorbed. After about 20-25 minutes, the rice should be cooked and all of the stock should be used up. Remove from the heat.

6. The pumpkin should be ready, so add it to a blender with the remaining 200ml of chicken stock and blend to a puree. Stir this into the risotto.

7. Now grate in the parmesan and add the cold butter cut into a few cubes. Mix the risotto very vigorously for a minute or so until it is creamy. Taste and add salt if you need to. You want the texture to be easily spoonable, so that it will spread gently when spooned onto a warm plate. If it’s too thick, add a little splash of stock and stir.

8. I do something at this point that I call the ‘drag test’ - drag a wooden spoon through your risotto and it will separate like Moses parting the Red Sea. It should take about 2/3 seconds for that gap to reform. If it happens too fast, it’s too liquid and if it takes much longer, it’s too thick.

   

9. If you want to, you can finish the risotto with a little more grated cheese and some black pepper. Done!

Here is a short video of the recipe

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I really hope you enjoy cooking this and find the recipe useful. This is really a perfect example of what Foundations is all about - I want you to be able to make risotto, not just copy this recipe for a pumpkin risotto. I hope that by explaining how and why these processes happen and what they achieve, you’ll be able to apply this method to a whole range of ingredients throughout the year.

That concludes the first subsection of Foundations, taking you from roasting a chicken to turning the leftovers into stock and then using that stock for chicken soup and finally for risotto.

Our next big topic will be braising, which feels perfectly timed considering it was -5c when I woke up this morning 🥶. Until next time, Jordon.