The Most Misunderstood Dish of All: Risotto

Happy weekend, dear readers. I got my first vaccine shot yesterday and I’m feeling pretty great about that. I hope that all of you are close to getting vaccinated, too.

I’m feeling a bit out of sorts, though. A little achy and overtired, nothing to worry about to be sure. Just a little blah. The rainy, grey weather today certainly isn’t helping. You know what would help? Comfort food.

I wanted to discuss a particular dish today. One that, I think, may be one of the most misunderstood dishes of all time. I’m of course referring to the Italian classic, self-saucing rice dish, risotto.

Now, I bet you’re thinking, what’s so hard to understand about risotto? In essence, it’s a simple thing. Short grain rice, rich in amylopectin and low in amylose, cooked slowly in repeated additions of flavourful liquid, stirred often and finished with high fat ingredients to create basically soupy rice. That is, rice suspended in a rich sauce of its own starch and cooking liquid.

Sure, it’s not hard to define risotto. The problem is this: I see so many people futz it up when it comes to making and serving risotto. In the 90’s, there was such a boom of Italian cuisine into fine dining that it was common to see risotto on nearly every menu, either as a dish on its own, or a side dish. Sometimes, you’d even see two or three different varieties.

To a beleaguered cook, or TV cooking contestant (why do they always pick a risotto to do when they’re short on time?) nothing is worse than trying to babysit a few orders of risotto on a busy night. Restaurants often take the shortcut of par-cooking the grains, so that they can be finished quickly to order, but I never found this to be satisfactory in the end result.

Risotto has a myth, a mystique around it. Is it difficult to prepare? No. Well, then is it temperamental? No, again. It’s just needy. It requires those two things that both harried line cooks and exhausted home cooks are loathe to provide: time and attention.

You want amazing, creamy, perfect risotto? Then you stand there. You sauté your vegetables, you toast your rice, deglaze with wine, add stock little by little and stir, stir, stir. It takes anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes, start to finish. You’re not exactly chained to the stove, but you’re not leaving the kitchen, either. The more you stir, the better the end result.

Speaking of the pot, use a large, wide-bottomed affair. The more surface area you have, the less chance you have of rice stacking on other rice. If every grain is uniformly touching the bottom of the pot, you’re improving your chances of evenly cooked risotto.

Once the rice is cooked and the sauce clingy, you add your finishing touches and seasoning, then serve. Immediately. Risotto waits for no one. The rice should flow slowly, not saucily. It should slowly spread itself out over the plate. It should not stack or clump. Anything left in the pot after the initial serving is for making arancini, not re-heating.

The things that make risotto a dish of the moment are the same things that make it a bad side dish. In my opinion, a perfect risotto should be admired, savoured. It’s too heavy and cheesy for most fish and seafood. And it can go stiff and gluggy while you focus on your steak or pork chop. Ideally a risotto is a first real course, a primi, before the main meal, like pasta should be served. A whole plate of carbs for dinner is not the point, but y’know, who am I to judge.

Look, I’m not Italian, nor do I claim to be an expert. I’m just telling you how I feel about risotto, a dish that I think may be due for a comeback. I think we all ate a lot of lousy risotto in the 90’s, but we can do better. Here’s my technique, non-traditional as it is. Remember: time, attention, patience.

Mushroom Risotto

Ingredients:

• 946mL (4 cups) chicken stock
• 14g (1/2 oz) dried chanterelle or porcini mushrooms
• 454g (1lb.) white button or cremini mushrooms, halved and sliced into wedges.
• 15mL (1 tbsp) extra virgin olive oil
• 14.2g (1 tbsp) butter
• 2 shallots, peeled and very finely diced
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
• 220g (1 cup) arborio rice
• 237 mL (1 cup) dry white wine
• Kosher salt, to taste
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• 4.9g (1 tsp) Boursin Shallot & Chive flavour
• 30g (1/3 cup) Parmesan cheese, finely grated

Method:

1. In a medium sized pot over high heat, bring the chicken stock to a boil. Once boiling, add the dried mushrooms and reduce the heat to very low, below a simmer. Allow the mushrooms to steep in the stock for roughly 20 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, in a wide-bottomed, straight-sided shallow pan, heat a film of canola oil over high heat. Once the oil is shimmering, add the sliced mushrooms and a large pinch of salt. Allow the mushrooms to cook undisturbed for 5-6 minutes, before shaking the pan and stirring for even cooking. Once the mushrooms are well browned and have given up all their liquid, about 10-12 minutes, transfer them to a plate and let the pan cool down.
3. Add the butter and olive oil to the now-cool pan and melt over medium heat. Once the butter begins to foam, add the shallots and garlic and let cook until just fragrant, 1-2 minutes. Add the rice and let the rice toast in the fat, stirring with a heatproof spatula or wooden spoon, until it smells nutty, 2-3 minutes. Reduce the heat if the rice or garlic is in danger of burning.
4. Once the rice is toasted, add the wine. Stir gently, but near-constantly as the wine reduces both from absorption and evaporation.  
5. Once the pan is almost completely dry, move the pot of warm chicken stock within arms reach, and add two ladles worth into the pan. Adjust the heat under the pan so the rice stays at a gentle simmer and keep stirring.  As you stir, the rice will release starch, thickening the sauce.
6. When the pan is almost dry again, as in when you can pull your spoon or spatula through the rice and leave a trail that doesn’t immediately flow back onto itself, add another ladle of stock. Repeat the process of stirring until almost dry and adding stock. At around the 20-minute mark, or when your pot of stock is 2/3 empty, begin to taste the rice for doneness. You want to be able to taste each grain on your tongue, but no hardness or chalkiness should remain. There should be chew, but not grit.
7. Once the rice is cooked nearly to your liking, remove from the heat and vigorously stir in both cheeses. Taste for seasoning. If the rice has become too dry or sticky with all the cheese, sprinkle in a bit more stock and stir over low heat to loosen. Fold in the reserved cooked mushrooms. Plate and eat immediately.

So, do you see? Now THAT’S a risotto. Creamy, dreamy and delicious. Unctuous and flowing, not stodgy or soupy. The rice, suspended in the sauce, but not stacked up like some sort of weird art-deco tower or splashing about like rice in soup. And the Boursin… look, I know it’s French and I know it’s a cheat, but I don’t care. It works a treat, much better than finishing with butter or cream (both of which real Italians do, don’t let them bluff you).

I hope this post and my tips will make you want to re-discover risotto. It can be a glorious pleasure, if cooked and utilized correctly. What’s your take on risotto? Let me know in the comments below or via email, and we’ll see you real soon! Vaccine squad out!