If you’ve had dinner at my place, chances are very good that I’ve made risotto for you (your chances go up the more often you’ve sat at my table), that savory and delectable delicacy of Piedmont. A simple dish that for some reason is elevated to levels of near haute cuisine. The very mention of risotto conjures up images of Tuscan countryside, bottles of sangiovese and chianti, black ties and white linen in people. “Fancy” is a word I hear associated often with this staple, nay pillar, of Northern Italian cuisine. And, I suppose it is “fancy” to the dirty water hot dog and roach coach crowd. It’s just that, if you grew up in Piedmont, in Venice, in Milan, the stuff is old hat for you. If your parents or grand parents were from Northern Italy, you probably had the stuff right along with dirty water hot dogs or later in the evening, after you gorged on $1 tacos (cabeza or lengua for me, please) from the taco truck outside of school.
Maybe what goes into the whole mystique of risotto is the labor. Good risotto is stirred regularly. Great risotto is stirred constantly. My friend Kelsey gets regular work outs when she comes over for dinner and I’m making risotto. And that work is key for risotto. In any grain of rice there are two compounds – amylose and amylopectin. Amylose is a long chain of glucose (sugar) with little to no branching. It is hard to digest, but stores cellular energy readily. Great for plants to stockpile during winter dormancy – a long, slow burn until spring arrives. Amylopectin on the other hand is branched, it twists this way and that. Each branch is easily cut up, making it great for fast use. The short grain rice used in making risotto is packed full of amylopectin. And this is key to risotto’s creamyness. Whatever some cockamamie TV chef or home cook will tell you, the amylopectin is not a cell. It does not absorb anything. Instead, in the process of cooking, amylopectin is leached out of the rice. As heat and liquid is applied to the cell membrane and walls of the rice, they burst, releasing their guts out to the soupy world they’re being cooked in. And in those guts are gigantic strands of amylopectin that unravel themselves. As they cook, and join together in the liquid, the multibranched strands get tangled. This tangling of starches is what gives risotto its thick, creamy consistency. And the stirring helps free up more of this starch. As anyone who has ever taken 1st year General College Biology (Bio-130 for my DVC peeps!) knows, the best way to lyse (break) cells is to put them in a lot of liquid and shake vigorously (centrifuge preferred). The constant stirring helps break cells, but not nearly with the totality of a centrifuge. Otherwise you’d end up with a goopy mess that wouldn’t look terribly edible as every cell was destroyed. That or the centrifuge just gives out, catches on fire and sets off the Ansul system in your lab/kitchen. Trust me, that’s not fun.
Risotto al vinno rosso con funghi
2 cups short grain rice (Arborio or other)
1-1/2 cup red wine
1 medium onion diced
½ lb of mushrooms (coarse dice), any
¾ cup of pecorino cheese (or any other hard Italian cheese you like), finely shredded
unsalted butter, a lot
olive oil
kosher salt
black pepper
Italian parsley
6 – 8 cups beef stock
1) Heat an appropriate sized pan on medium heat. When hot, throw in 2-3tbsp of olive oil. Cook the onions until translucent. In a separate pot, heat stock.
2) Once the onions are translucent throw in 4tbsp of butter and allow to melt. Once melted add the rice and stir, covering with oil and butter. Salt. Let toast for 5 minutes.
3) Once the rice has toasted, remove pan from heat and pour in wine. DO NOT POUR THE WINE WHILE THE RICE IS ON THE STOVE! That’s a great way to start a fire. We don’t want to start a fire. When that alcohol hits the hot pan, it will vaporize. If it’s near heat, that vapor will flare up into a nice fireball, quite possibly catching your kitchen drapes, your hair or your clothing on fire. Stir the rice in the wine.
4) Add mushrooms! Let these simmer for a few minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. Yes, that means tasting something that isn’t ready to eat yet.
5) Add first aliquot of stock to the rice. I have a 1-cup dry measuring cup that works well for this. Find something you like and stick with it. Some use ladels. Some use teacups. Any vessel to move only small portions of liquid from the stock pot to the pan will do.
6) After the first aliquot, you have to start stirring. Maybe not constantly, but regularly. Once the first portion of liquid is gone, stir in the next. And keep going. Taste the rice before pouring in more liquid after the first 4 cups have gone in. If the rice is still dry looking, and hard, keep going until you start to see the rice take on a creamy texture. Taste as you’re going at this point to see if it needs any more salt or pepper. Once the rice is cooked, but still slightly firm (al dente), you’re ready for the final part.
7) Add cheese. Pull off the heat and serve. Mound the cheese on top and start stirring until that cheese melts into the rice.
Congratulations! You’ve made risotto, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it was, was it?
