Risotto Ladle by Ladle
One of the accusations made against Italian cooking by those trained in, or seduced by, classic French cuisine is that Italian cooking lacks refinement--as the French define it.
They point, understandably, to the great French repertoire of sauces. To the French culinary mind, a dish is incomplete without an elevating sauce. This has its subtleties, to be sure.
Yet the Italian aesthetic can be even more subtle than the French. The Italian notion of saucing--although they would not choose that word--is, in essence, that a “sauce” should come from within the dish itself. If it is external, such as olive oil or balsamic vinegar, the added touch should serve only as something to draw out “the sauce within.” Anyone who has had a plate of plain but perfectly cooked beans knows that a mere drizzle of superb olive oil unleashes an unsuspected depth of flavor in the beans themselves.
The distinction of risotto--the reason its cooking technique evolved--derives from this Italian sensibility. The intrinsic saucing of risotto is the creaminess that is teased out from the rice itself. But creaminess is not enough: The rice must remain firm. The Italian rice varieties developed over centuries reflect this dual demand.
No other notable rice dish in the world is cooked like risotto--not in Japan or China, the Middle East, France or Latin America. Only with risotto are grains of rice force-fed, patiently but persistently, like a foie gras goose. Every other rice-cooking technique, from making plain boiled rice in China to creating the wonderful broth-rich pilafs of India and the Middle East, has hot liquid applied to raw rice all at once. The pot is then covered and allowed to simmer until the liquid is absorbed.
If you cook Italian rice in a conventional fashion--water or stock added all at once and the pot covered--you will get a palatable rice dish. It will be gummy and more like a porridge, but not bad. Indeed, this was how Italian rice workers themselves made their rice, in a dish called riso alla pilota. (The pilota was the person who husked the tough seven-layer bran from the rice.)
This was a cheap, filling dish that could be--and was--made in vast quantities. After all, most agricultural households comprised three generations under one roof, with the result that the meal had to feed 15 or more people, although rarely did anyone have much to eat. If you’ve eaten Chinese sticky rice, you know what this riso alla pilota is like, even to the inclusion of pork ribs, which are a traditional part of the dish on feast days.
Risotto as we know it today--the fat rice lovingly plied with ladle by ladle of valuable meat stock, clearly is not a peasant dish. Rather, it came originally from the aristocracy and later became a staple of the middle class. In fact, its diffusion to the middle classes came only when rice production expanded to industrial proportions during the mid-1800s--and when the Industrial Revolution came to Italy and created an expanded middle class.
This expansion occurred, as it happens, in the same area in which rice was grown, ensuring risotto an honored place at the newly set middle-class table. In the cities, risotto was a “Sunday dish”--not surprising, considering that stock is not as cheap as water. In the rice-growing countryside, it was more frequently served, as country families of some means had the poultry and livestock for their own stockpots and rice was cheap, if not grown on their farms.
But why add the stock a little at a time? No one knows who originated the risotto cooking technique. Rarely do recipes emerge in an Archimedean brain wave: “Eureka! I have found it!” Rather, they tend to evolve, although not just from practicality. Recipes, like music, are shaped by defining cultural sensibilities.
The originating practicality might have been a cook in an aristocratic kitchen waiting for the above-the-stairs folk to dine. As in restaurant kitchens today, the dish may have been “half-cooked” and then held. (This still occurs with risotto in some bad restaurant kitchens.) The dish was finished by adding stock, ladle by ladle, until the rice was cooked. From there, it was not much of a leap to discover the greater intrinsic goodness and refinement of a risotto where the dish is made start to finish without delay.
Whether it was the House of Savoy in Piedmont, the dukes of Milan in Lombardy or the Venetians in Veneto who originated risotto is unknown. What is worth noting is that differing risotto styles--but not techniques--do exist, the two extremes represented by Piedmont and Venice. Venetian risotti are more delicate and soupier than those of Piedmont.
Venetian cooks always say that risotto should have a consistency all’onda, flowing like an ocean wave. The Piedmontese risotti are denser. (Piedmont is landlocked.) Venetian risotti are less rich because they typically employ fish or vegetables, the flavors of which are easily overwhelmed by a meat stock. As a result, their light stocks frequently are fish- or vegetable-based. In Piedmont, meat stocks are invariable. Both schools do insist, however, that risotto be creamy. That said, the variety of rice used will make a difference; some create creamier risotti than others. The Venetians prefer the Vialone Nano rice variety, which expands magnificently but is not as firm-textured as Piedmont’s preferred Carnaroli or Arborio varieties.
Another element of the risotto aesthetic is that, unlike most rice dishes elsewhere in the world, risotto is not a side dish, or contorno, as the Italians put it. Instead, rice is the focus itself, rather than a belly-filling accompaniment.
Because of this, one important element of the risotto aesthetic is simplicity. The great risotto dishes almost always are singular in their flavoring, employing just one informing ingredient, such as a particular cheese (risotto al Gorgonzola), or a spice (the saffron-infused risotto alla Milanese), or an added ingredient like mushrooms (risotto ai funghi porcini), vegetables (risotto alla zucca) or even just a lemon (risotto al limone). The exaltation of the rice itself is why this aesthetic emerged and why overly complicated risotti are somehow unsatisfying, even flawed.
SWEET PEPPER AND PROSCIUTTO RISOTTO (Risotto con Peperone e Prosciutto)
Sweet red and yellow peppers figure prominently in Piedmontese cooking, as they do in many other regional Italian cuisines. I prefer to remove the skins of the peppers for digestibility. Several techniques can be used, such as baking or charring them, then removing the softened or blistered skin or peel them with a vegetable peeler.
4 red or yellow bell peppers (preferably 2 of each), seeded and, if desired, skins removed
1 onion or 4 large shallots
1/4 cup olive oil
8 cups chicken stock
2 1/2 cups Arborio or Carnaroli rice
Salt
4 to 6 ounces Italian prosciutto, thickly sliced and cut into small cubes
1 cup (4 ounces) freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Cut peppers into medium-size dice. Chop onion into very fine dice and set aside.
Heat 2 tablespoons oil in large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. When hot, toss in peppers. Cook, stirring and tossing frequently, until peppers are cooked through but still slightly crunchy, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
Bring stock to boil and immediately reduce to simmer.
Heat remaining 2 tablespoons oil in large heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat. Add chopped onion and cook, stirring, until translucent, 2 to 3 minutes.
Raise heat to high and add rice all at once, stirring vigorously, until grains are translucent and “pearl” in each grain appears clearly, about 1 minute.
Immediately reduce heat to low and add 2 or 3 ladles of simmering stock, just barely enough to cover rice. Season with salt to taste and stir briefly. Adjust heat throughout process so stock is barely bubbling. When air holes start to appear on surface, after about 2 minutes, add another ladle of stock. Continue to cook and add stock, tasting for salt from time to time, taking care not to use too much.
When risotto is three-quarters cooked--about 15 minutes into stirring process--add cooked peppers, mixing them in thoroughly. Continue cooking risotto, adding stock as needed.
After 18 to 20 minutes, rice should be close to tender-but-firm stage. Rice should neither be hard nor too mushy. Risotto is done when you decide that just 1 more ladle of stock will bring rice to its full glory. Err on slightly liquid side, because rice will continue to absorb stock. Modify body of risotto by stirring in little more stock, then immediately remove pan from heat.
Add prosciutto, mixing in thoroughly. Add grated Parmigiano, stirring again. Serve immediately on very hot plates.
4 to 6 servings. Each of 6 servings:
551 calories; 1,660 mg sodium; 23 mg cholesterol; 17 grams fat; 73 grams carbohydrates; 23 grams protein; 0.55 gram fiber.
LEMON RISOTTO (Risotto al Limone)
In Giovanni Goria’s book “La Cucina del Piemonte,” there is a recipe for risotto alle erbe profumate all’uovo e al limone--with rosemary and sage, egg and lemon. This version is simpler and purer. It’s a terrific risotto, especially in warm weather, when it tastes especially refreshing.
8 cups chicken stock
2 tablespoons butter or olive oil, plus 2 optional tablespoons butter
1 onion or 4 large shallots, very finely chopped
2 1/2 cups arborio or carnaroli rice
Salt
1 large egg yolk
Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/2 cup (2 ounces) finely grated Parmigiano-
Reggiano cheese
Bring stock to boil and immediately reduce to simmer.
Melt 2 tablespoons butter in large heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat. Add chopped onion and cook, stirring, until translucent, 2 to 3 minutes.
Raise heat to high and add rice all at once, stirring vigorously, until grains are translucent and “pearl” in each grain appears clearly, about 1 minute.
Immediately reduce heat to low and add 2 or 3 ladles of simmering stock, just barely enough to cover rice. Season with salt to taste and stir briefly. Adjust heat throughout process so stock is barely bubbling. When air holes start to appear on surface, after about 2 minutes, add another ladle of stock. Continue to cook and add stock, tasting for salt from time to time, taking care not to use too much.
Meanwhile, in small bowl, whisk together egg yolk and lemon zest and juice. Set aside.
After 18 to 20 minutes, rice should be close to tender-but-firm stage. Rice should be neither hard nor too mushy. Risotto is done when you decide that just 1 more ladle of stock will bring rice to its full glory. Err on slightly liquid side, because rice will continue to absorb stock. Modify body of risotto by stirring in little more stock, then immediately remove pan from heat.
Slowly swirl in egg yolk mixture, stirring in thoroughly. Add grated Parmigiano, stirring again. Check for texture. If consistency is too dry, stir in little stock. Add 2 tablespoons butter, if you wish, stirring in. Serve immediately on very hot plates.
4 to 6 servings. Each of 6 servings:
444 calories; 1,289 mg sodium; 64 mg cholesterol; 10 grams fat; 70 grams carbohydrates; 16 grams protein; 0.33 gram fiber.
RED WINE RISOTTO (Risotto al Vino Rosso)
“The idea of a scarlet-colored risotto can initially seem a little odd,” Kramer writes. “Yet not only is red wine risotto one of the great Piedmontese classics, it’s one of the best risotti you’ll ever eat. Traditionally, the dish sails under the name risotto al Barolo or al Barbera, two classic Piedmontese wines. In the old days, Barolo was so inexpensive that you could devote three-quarters of a bottle to a risotto and not feel profligate. These days, forget it. Even Barbera is getting a bit too pricey. I have tested this recipe using a first-class Barolo and an ordinary but drinkable Cabernet Sauvignon. There was little flavor difference. Use whatever red wine you’ve got that’s good enough to drink, but not so expensive that you feel a pang when cooking with it.
“As for the marrow, it’s essential, [elevating] the dish to something truly remarkable. Many supermarkets sell sliced beef marrow bones. Because of the fat in the marrow, there’s no need for additional butter or oil.”
6 cups chicken stock
2 ounces beef marrow (from 4 to 5 bones), coarsely chopped
1 onion or 4 large shallots, very finely chopped
2 1/2 cups Arborio or Carnaroli rice
Salt
1/2 to 3/4 bottle dry red wine
2 teaspoons tomato paste
Freshly ground black pepper
Freshly grated nutmeg
2 ounces Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, grated (1/2 cup)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, optional
Bring stock to boil and immediately reduce to simmer.
Place marrow in large heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat. When most of marrow has melted, add chopped onion and cook, stirring, until translucent.
Raise heat to high and add rice all at once, stirring vigorously, until grains are translucent and “pearl” in each grain appears clearly, about 1 minute.
Immediately reduce heat to low and add 2 or 3 ladles of simmering stock, just barely enough to cover rice. Season with salt to taste and stir briefly. Adjust heat throughout process so stock is barely bubbling. When air holes start to appear on surface, after about 2 minutes, add another ladle of stock. Continue to cook and add stock, tasting for salt from time to time, taking care not to use too much.
Continue to cook, adding more stock as necessary; each time you add stock, pour in dollop of red wine. Do not add too much wine at any time to keep the heat of risotto unchanged. (Letting wine boil would mute its flavor.) After about 10 minutes, when risotto is about half-cooked, add tomato paste along with some stock.
After 18 to 20 minutes, rice should be close to tender-but-firm stage. Rice should not be hard, nor should it be mushy. Risotto is done when you decide that just 1 more ladle of stock will bring rice to its full glory. Err on slightly liquid side, because rice will continue to absorb stock. Modify body of risotto by stirring in little more stock, then immediately remove pan from heat.
Stir in large pinch pepper and large pinch nutmeg. Add grated Parmigiano, stirring again. Check for texture. If consistency is too dry, stir in little stock. Add butter, if you wish, stirring it in. Serve immediately on very hot plates.
4 to 6 servings. Each of 6 servings:
509 calories; 996 mg sodium; 14 mg cholesterol; 13 grams fat; 71 grams carbohydrates; 15 grams protein; 0.35 gram fiber.
FRIED RISOTTO (Risotto Fritto)
“More than a few Italians,” Kramer writes, “will privately confess that what they most like about risotto is having the leftovers the next day for lunch in the form of risotto fritto. I join them in their not-so-secret pleasure.
“Making this dish couldn’t be simpler. [It’s] as close to making a mud pie as a grown-up can get. The technique that follows will result in a successful risotto fritto the first time out. Because the amount of leftover risotto will vary, there’s no sense in providing precise measurements. This is a very forgiving dish, as it takes time to cook through.”
Olive oil
Leftover risotto (any quantity)
Salt
Lemon wedges
Place large nonstick skillet with sloping sides over high heat. Add few tablespoons olive oil. When oil is hot but not smoking, add enough leftover risotto to create cake that, when flattened, is no more than 1/3 inch thick.
Using broad wooden spatula, forcefully flatten risotto in pan to create flat cake. (Oil will splatter; be watchful.) Rice becomes easier to work as it warms up. Keep patting away until rice takes shape and thickness you want. Keep spreading it out, tucking in sides as they straggle out.
When risotto cake is suitably flat, fry until edges are brown.
To flip risotto cake, place plate slightly larger than pan over top and invert pan. Then slide risotto cake, uncooked side down, back into pan. If cake breaks apart as it is returned to pan, just press firmly together with back of spatula and continue cooking.
Risotto cake is cooked when it really is fritto on both sides. I usually flip mine over 3 times to get it properly crisp on both sides.
To serve, slide hot risotto fritto onto serving plate and slice into wedges. Sprinkle generously with salt and serve with lemon wedges on side.
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* The Land That Made Risotto: Italy’s Po Valley. Plus, speaking the language of Italian rice, a few good stock tips and more recipes. H10
* The story on this page and H10 are excerpts from the risotto chapter of Matt Kramer’s upcoming cookbook “A Russian From Piedmont,” which will be published by Morrow in December. Kramer, who writes wine features for The Times, lives in Portland, Ore.
* Cucina Fresca Italian pottery from Pierre Lafonde, Montecito, Room With a View, Santa Monica.