Let’s give Italy’s “second-rate” carb some love
Three years ago, I sent a vial of my spit to Ancestry in the hopes of making some shocking discovery about my ethnicity. Like most of us, as a kid, I thought I was speaking truth when I explained, “I’m half Italian, a quarter Scottish, and a quarter Hungarian.” Didn’t we all think our genes were like half pepperoni, half cheese pizzas? 50-percent from Dad, 50-percent from Mom. It seemed simple to me.
Since receiving my first Ancestry results back in 2019, my chart has changed about five times. Because the science is so new, scientists keep finding new data to help make our results more accurate. I’ve gone from seeing five regions on my chart to ten - I’m a total European mutt. Despite the many updates, one thing remains clear: I’m more Italian (37%) than anything else.
What’s intriguing is that my dad, the parent bringing Mediterranean genes to the table, hails mainly from Southern Italy, specifically Puglia. Our knowledge of our family tree corroborates this. Meanwhile, my DNA appears to lean strongly toward Northern Italy. The extent of my genealogy expertise ends here, but if some scientist wants to weigh in on how this is possible, I’d love to hear more.
The point to this lesson on double-helixes takes us, of course, to the kitchen. I could write an entire article (and probably will) on Italy’s North-South divide. The differences between the Northern and Southern halves of the country are many, ranging from economic to socio-cultural and, obviously, geographical.
Milan’s latitude is surprisingly close to Maine’s (45.4 versus 45.2); meanwhile, Naples aligns with Southern Georgia. With such contrasting climates come varying soils and thus different vegetation. As a result, the iconic wheat, tomato, and olive-oil rich foods of Campania and Puglia are a far cry from the signature butter-laden, potato, and rice-based dishes of Lombardia and Piemonte. And while I will never turn down a plate of spaghetti or even a simple Caprese salad, I am growing increasingly partial to Milan’s pride and joy: risotto. I honestly think I could eat it every day, but it seems sadly overshadowed by pasta as the world’s favorite Italian carb.
Among chefs and home cooks alike, risotto is commonly regarded as one of the most difficult dishes to master. In fact, while I consider risotto to be one of my signatures for dinner parties, just this weekend it turned out a bit gummy. As the judges on Master Chef so frequently remark, risotto is feared because its simplicity leaves nowhere to hide mistakes.
The essentials
Olive oil
Shallot or onion (I prefer the former)
Dry white wine
Arborio rice*
Warm stock or broth
Butter
Grated parmesan cheese
A wooden spoon
*Risotto refers to the Italian word for rice, riso. There are other grains that, with the same cooking method, can achieve a similar result, including farro (farrotto). However, a true risotto must be made with one of three Italian rices: Arborio, Carnaroli, or Vialone Nano. I’ve only worked with Arborio.
While gathering the mise en place for last night’s mushroom risotto, I quickly Googled why Arborio rice is at the nucleus of any risotto. Turns out it was actually named for a town called Arborio in Piemonte. It is perfect for risotto because its high levels of amylopectin starch allow it to become creamy, hence why rinsing the rice before cooking is not recommended.
Besides the creaminess, simplicity, and comfort in a serving of risotto, I love that, like pasta, it’s a base for any flavor. Here are a few of my favorite types of risotto, but the possibilities are endless.
Seafood
Mushroom
Lemon
Saffron - the true Risotto Milanese and ubiquitous in Lugano, often served with osso buco
Butternut squash
Vanilla bean
Shortrib (I highly recommend using the shortrib drippings for sautéing your shallot. You won’t regret it!)
Why is risotto so hard to master?
I’ll admit, I think part of the difficulty lies in the lore. When I first made risotto years ago, I had no clue it was considered a feat. Call it beginner’s luck, but it turned out just fine. That said, Arborio rice can be fickle. Risotto needs constant, gentle attention and must be kept at a low heat. If the rice is boiled rather than simmered, the kernels can break. One of Gordon Ramsay’s lines from MasterChef is always with me:
You have to make love to the risotto.
The process for a basic risotto
Lightly sautée the shallot in EVOO or butter. Here, iconic restauranteur Joe Bastianich recommends adding salt, as salt is not to be added to the rice itself.
Toast the rice in the shallot/oil mixture
Add dry white wine and burn off the alcohol
Begin ladling warm broth/stock into the rice, letting it absorb, and then stirring gently with a wooden spoon (this is the “love making” part) over low or medium-low heat. Using warm broth is essential as cold liquid will slow or stop the cooking process. This is when the rice needs constant supervision, but be careful not to over-stir.
When the rice has absorbed most of the broth - it should be creamy but still slightly al dente - remove from heat. The cooking process should take about 18-20 minutes.
Mantecare: mix butter into the hot rice
Finish by adding the grated cheese. This will provide the necessary saltiness.
Serve immediately! This is the most common mistake that I make in the kitchen. It can be tough to perfect your timing, but letting risotto sit will cause it to congeal and lose its lovely creamy texture.
