Too much dirty rice, too many beans
May. 18th, 2007 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ventaYou're all gourmets, right ? Or at the least gourmands. So, tell me about...
I have vague memories, when I was little, of eating leftovers fried with rice which were called risotto. The memories are very vague, though, so the mother may come along to comment that I didn't eat such things (or, at least, didn't eat them at home).
Fast forward twenty-odd years until I'm doing post-graduate study and living in a rather swish flat belonging to my college. My flat-mate is an Australian post-doc called Donna. She's vegetarian, and sometimes makes risotto. She does this by slowly stirring wine and stock into rice. No frying is involved. The result is fantastic.
Learning in equal parts from Donna and from a rather wonderful Thane Prince cookbook, I taught myself to make risotto. Experimentation has shown that I tend to prefer vegetable risottos (risotti ?) - favourites are mushroom and cashew, mushroom and leek, mushroom, spinach and Wensleydale (spotting a theme here?).
Once I got a job and started eating out more, I took to ordering risotti in restaurants. Which is where the story takes a sad turn. I discovered that one of these things is true:
- restaurants cannot make risotto
- I cannot make risotto
My evidence for this is that risotti in restaurants tend to be inferior (in my opinion) to mine. They're often gluggy, puddingy, sloppy, or too rich. On Tuesday I went out for lunch to a place which my colleauges tell me serves nice food. However their chicken, leek and stilton risotto was vaguely terrifying. Imagine extremely heavily cheesed rice-pudding, with immense lumps of chicken. I'd have put in less chicken, shredded what I did put in, and gone easy on the cheese. Oh, and served a portion about 50% of the size. I don't know why I still order risotto when out; a triumph of optimism over experience, I suppose.
Now in general I'd say I'm a reasonable cook; it's not, however, usual for me to consider I'm better at particular dishes than otherwise reputable restaurants. So, the inescapable conclusion is that the restaurants of South East England make beautiful risotto, and I make a peculiar parody which by some quirk of peversity I choose to prefer.
But.. but... mine's just nicer. It's creamy, but by slow cooking rather than the addition of cream. It doesn't have surprising lumps in it. It doesn't, mostly, resemble rice pudding. Except for the time when I bought Tesco's other kind of risotto rice - not arborio, but a name which escapes me. Carnellio ? Something beginning with C[*].
Once, I had a vague plan too cook mushroom risotto, but then discovered that all the ingredients I thought I had were gone. In place of white wine, I had red. In place of mushrooms, I had peppers and chillis. I went ahead and made it anyway. The result was nice enough and Frances and I ate it with grated cheddar and guacamole. We christened it "bizarro". While I'm not sure if that legally qualifies as risotto, it still had the correct texture.
It has been suggested that the reason I like my own risotto best is because by the time it comes to the table it - and often me - are very full of wine. I couldn't possibly comment.
So, the short version of the above is that I wish to eat a nice risotto. If you know of somewhere which will serve such a thing - preferably in Oxford, London, or somewhere nearby - then let me know. Or, y'know, if you cook a good risotto then invite me round for dinner.
[*] Wikipedia thinks I might mean Carnaroli.
I have vague memories, when I was little, of eating leftovers fried with rice which were called risotto. The memories are very vague, though, so the mother may come along to comment that I didn't eat such things (or, at least, didn't eat them at home).
Fast forward twenty-odd years until I'm doing post-graduate study and living in a rather swish flat belonging to my college. My flat-mate is an Australian post-doc called Donna. She's vegetarian, and sometimes makes risotto. She does this by slowly stirring wine and stock into rice. No frying is involved. The result is fantastic.
Learning in equal parts from Donna and from a rather wonderful Thane Prince cookbook, I taught myself to make risotto. Experimentation has shown that I tend to prefer vegetable risottos (risotti ?) - favourites are mushroom and cashew, mushroom and leek, mushroom, spinach and Wensleydale (spotting a theme here?).
Once I got a job and started eating out more, I took to ordering risotti in restaurants. Which is where the story takes a sad turn. I discovered that one of these things is true:
- restaurants cannot make risotto
- I cannot make risotto
My evidence for this is that risotti in restaurants tend to be inferior (in my opinion) to mine. They're often gluggy, puddingy, sloppy, or too rich. On Tuesday I went out for lunch to a place which my colleauges tell me serves nice food. However their chicken, leek and stilton risotto was vaguely terrifying. Imagine extremely heavily cheesed rice-pudding, with immense lumps of chicken. I'd have put in less chicken, shredded what I did put in, and gone easy on the cheese. Oh, and served a portion about 50% of the size. I don't know why I still order risotto when out; a triumph of optimism over experience, I suppose.
Now in general I'd say I'm a reasonable cook; it's not, however, usual for me to consider I'm better at particular dishes than otherwise reputable restaurants. So, the inescapable conclusion is that the restaurants of South East England make beautiful risotto, and I make a peculiar parody which by some quirk of peversity I choose to prefer.
But.. but... mine's just nicer. It's creamy, but by slow cooking rather than the addition of cream. It doesn't have surprising lumps in it. It doesn't, mostly, resemble rice pudding. Except for the time when I bought Tesco's other kind of risotto rice - not arborio, but a name which escapes me. Carnellio ? Something beginning with C[*].
Once, I had a vague plan too cook mushroom risotto, but then discovered that all the ingredients I thought I had were gone. In place of white wine, I had red. In place of mushrooms, I had peppers and chillis. I went ahead and made it anyway. The result was nice enough and Frances and I ate it with grated cheddar and guacamole. We christened it "bizarro". While I'm not sure if that legally qualifies as risotto, it still had the correct texture.
It has been suggested that the reason I like my own risotto best is because by the time it comes to the table it - and often me - are very full of wine. I couldn't possibly comment.
So, the short version of the above is that I wish to eat a nice risotto. If you know of somewhere which will serve such a thing - preferably in Oxford, London, or somewhere nearby - then let me know. Or, y'know, if you cook a good risotto then invite me round for dinner.
[*] Wikipedia thinks I might mean Carnaroli.
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 01:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 01:20 pm (UTC)My LJ email address should work fine, and it really would be lvoely to see you, and catch up!