Risotto

This is a dish typically found in the Lombardy region of Italy, or in the Veneto. The extra-creamy consistency of this risotto belies its bold flavors: each super-rich bite is woodsy and earthy all in one. Because it’s so rich, a small portion makes a big impact. I serve it with a simple side salad and a full-bodied red wine, such as a Barbera.

This dish has become very popular on restaurant menus, because it seems extra-special—and tricky to make at home. Special it is, but in fact it’s quite easy to pull off, as it uses frozen lobster tails—no live lobsters to boil. The key is to brown the butter well for a deep, nutty flavor.

Why not cook pasta as you do risotto? That is, add broth a bit at a time and stir frequently, with the goal being a creamy, quickly made pasta (no waiting for the requisite gallon of water to boil!) that requires only marginally more attention than the standard variety. The concept is simple, it makes sense—pasta, like Arborio and other rices used for risotto, is plenty starchy enough—and it takes just the use of good-quality stock and a vegetable to make the dish delicious. If you’re using canned stock and have a little time, heat it with an onion, a carrot, and a garlic clove before beginning to add it to the pasta. And don’t salt the dish until you’re finished cooking; canned stock can be overly salty.

A couple of years ago, on a trip to central Italy—where true Parmigiano-Reggiano is made—I learned yet another use for the world’s most important cheese. A cook in a trattoria was taking handfuls of the grated stuff, sprinkling them in a skillet, and forming melted cheese pancakes. While they were still warm, he draped them over the back of a cup, to form crisp, edible, single-ingredient containers. He filled these with a mixture of zucchini, eggplant, and tomatoes and sent them out as a first course. I found the idea intriguing, but not all that easy to duplicate at home, where my skillet seemed always too hot or too cool, the pancakes too thick or too thin. But when I took the task seriously and set about figuring out the most reliable way to produce these Parmigiano-Reggiano cups, it turned out to be fairly straightforward. Thanks to the miracle of the nonstick surface, just put four rounds of grated cheese on a baking sheet and, five minutes later, they’re done.

Though there are similar rice-and-squid-ink dishes throughout the northern Mediterranean, I was introduced to this dish by a Croatian, so it is that country that gets the credit; Spaniards and Italians will no doubt be offended. The origins hardly matter, however; this is a wonderful and intensely flavorful dish. It’s unusual, too, for a few reasons: it’s a no-stir (or, to be more precise, a low-stir) risotto; it’s jet black; and it combines cheese and seafood, which is not exactly common and, for many of us—usually including me—a no-no. But it’s also easy, delicious, and striking, a perfect dish for entertaining. Serve it with a simple salad, a white wine from northeastern Italy, Austria, or, if you can find one, Croatia, and fresh fruit for dessert. You can find squid ink in small packages at fancy fish markets or European specialty shops (or, of course, on the Internet); it’s shelf-stable though it must be refrigerated and relatively inexpensive. And though its taste is pure squid, it’s the dramatic color that matters most.

In all but the best restaurants, risotto is abused—cooked in advance, baked, and who knows what else—so if you have never made risotto at home, you are in for a treat. It takes a little patience and a little practice, but it is not a difficult process at all. True risotto alla Milanese contains—indeed, features—bone marrow, but don’t be discouraged if you cannot (or will not) deal with that. Risotto is wonderful without it, and prosciutto makes an adequate substitute. What you do need are Arborio rice (now sold everywhere, but still best purchased in Italian markets), real saffron, and, ideally, good, homemade stock. (Having said that, see my “bare-bones” variation.) I might add this: After years of trying every possible technique to make my risotto as creamy as the best I’d ever had, I realized that the “secret” was large quantities of butter. Don’t hold back unless you must.

I love making risotto for family meals. It’s not something I have time for every day—it takes a good 30 minutes, mostly at the stove—but it is one of those special dishes that focus my attention and engage all my senses in the amazing processes of cooking. I smell, see, and taste what’s in the risotto pan, of course, but I am listening too: for the clicking sound that tells me the rice grains are sufficiently toasted and it’s time to splash them with wine; for the distinctive bubbling as each addition of cooking liquid disappears in the pot, which tells me the rice is ready for more. If I’ve stepped away from the stove—I do take a break from stirring risotto now and then, and you can too—that sound brings me back. I add more liquid and stir (and stir and stir), and feel, through the wooden spoon in my fingers, the corner of the pan where the rice is almost sticking, the resistance that tells me yet another cup of broth is needed before I wander away again. The Basic Risotto recipe that follows is one that will give you this marvelous engagement of the senses. It’s a simple formula that will let you focus on the critical steps in cooking—in the end, creating a great risotto is 100 percent technique—not on a long list of ingredients. You can make this right out of the cupboard, building flavor and superb texture with just olive oil, onions, rice, wine, water, salt, and cheese. Nothing else, not even butter, is necessary. I give you choices, though: use butter or leeks or broth if you want, or more or less of the ingredients listed in ranges. I want you in the driver’s seat, following your senses and tastes, to achieve the texture and flavor you like best (see more on these choices in the box on page 228). With risotto, you see, it is more important that you understand what you are doing than that you add things in prescribed amounts. When you are in control of what’s happening in the pot, you will feel how powerful a few ingredients and a few techniques can be in creating an outstanding dish. To sharpen your focus, you’ll find each step of the recipe instructions accompanied by a brief explanation of its purpose and the chemistry of risotto—these are short, and, believe me, you will have plenty of time to read them while you are stirring! And if you have further questions about risotto, write me at www.lidiasitaly.com. I love teaching about this precious treasure of Italian cooking.

Duck breasts are delicious—that crackling skin and fat, the tender, ruby-hued meat. Duck legs do even more for me; the meat is darker, richer, and full of incredible flavor. If you plan on making a duck breast for dinner, buy a whole duck and roast the legs just so you can make this dish. Alternatively, I suppose you could buy a roasted duck from a Chinese barbecue and pick the meat. Bloomsdale is a lovely, crinkly variety of spinach that is full-bodied and flavorful. If you can’t find Bloomsdale, any heirloom or organic spinach will do. Make sure you wash the leaves well, dunking a few times to remove all the sand and grit.

Farrotto is a risotto-style dish made with farro instead of rice, but the similarity stops there. Farrotto has a greater depth and nuttiness than regular risotto—not better or worse, just different. It also produces a more textured final dish. It’s out of this world paired with spring’s first earthy morels and peas, which add sweetness and dots of color. For tips on cleaning morels, see page 34. Farro is emmer wheat, often erroneously called “spelt” in English; you can find true farro in fancy grocery stores or specialty Italian markets.

Roasting the squash before incorporating it into the rice concentrates the flavor and adds great depth to this vibrant fall risotto. I use butternut here, but any firm-fleshed fall squash or pumpkin would work; kabocha would make an especially nice substitute. Cold-pressed hazelnut oil has a distinctive, nutty flavor, less pungent than some other nut oils, such as walnut. You can find some good brands from France, and one or two nice local oils that hail from the nut orchards of the Northwest. Although it’s expensive, it’s a great oil to use on salads and with certain desserts.

I’ve met a lot of people who are so intimidated by the process it takes to extract the luscious heart from a large thistle that they never go any further with the artichoke than steaming it and melting some butter. There’s nothing wrong with that approach—it’s good eating, for sure—but it does keep you from enjoying a host of dishes that allow this regal vegetable to play a more suave, starring role. The single most common mistake people make when they prep an artichoke is to use a dull knife. Not only home cooks make that mistake, either. I’ve seen professionals prep artichokes so they look like they went through the dryer. Take a steel to your knife and follow the directions carefully, and prepping the hearts should be a breeze, giving you the star ingredient for a lovely spring risotto. This risotto takes a bit more liquid than some others in the book because the artichokes absorb some as they cook. Make sure the butter you add to finish the dish is cold, so it incorporates and adds richness and body.

This risotto is a special springtime treat, not only because of the delicate flavor of the ramps but also because the porcini is allowed to really be the star. I treat it like a fine truffle, shaving it with a mandoline in a shower over each bowl. The heat of the risotto softens the mushrooms ever so slightly, and the shavings add texture and a wonderful fragrance.

Otherwise known as green garlic and garlic shoots, spring garlic captures the essence of garlic without any harshness or bite. Unlike mature garlic, spring garlic should be featured in recipes that won’t overwhelm the delicate flavor, such as this risotto. Make sure you wash the spring garlic thoroughly to remove any sand.

Thick and saucy, this country ham and summer vegetable–strewn rice dish is my Southern version of risotto. Like risotto, it gets its full-bodied, creamy texture from the starch released by the rice as it cooks.

Rich and creamy, risotto is Italian-style comfort food. If you like, replace the wine with an equal amount of broth. Arborio rice makes the creamiest risotto, but you can substitute medium-or long-grain white rice.

We use vegetable bouillon cubes to add to the flavor in a lot of our recipes, and they really make all the difference here, adding body and depth to this risotto. Don’t get too concerned about size when you are cutting up the butternut squash. If you have different-sized pieces the smaller ones will soften as they cook and mix in, enhancing the creaminess, and the larger pieces will retain their shape, giving the risotto more texture.

This recipe was inspired by my discovery of single-serving-size butternut squash the size of hand weights at my local farmers’ markets. Roasted butternut squash is a great thing to have on hand for use in various other dishes, though, so feel free to roast a larger one and use 1/2 cup of the flesh here, refrigerating the rest for up to a week or freezing for several months in an airtight container.

Like so many other American cooks, I learned to make risotto from Marcella Hazan—not directly, of course, although wouldn’t that be great? This is a quintessentially summertime recipe; make it when fresh corn, tomatoes, and basil are all converging on your local farmers’ market or farmstand. Risotto is one of those dishes that makes great leftovers—especially to form into balls, stuff with cheese, roll in bread crumbs, and fry to make arancini. So if you like the thought of that in your future, feel free to double or triple this recipe. Eat this with a vibrant green salad and some chewy bread for a filling supper.

Like asparagus, leeks produce a particularly subtle risotto. The crucial point is not to let them color. Cook them over low heat, with a lid on if you wish, or maybe with a piece of wax paper on top. Either way they must not brown.