CHIAVARI, Italy – After
making last week’s recipe of artichoke and potatoes, I still had five
artichokes left. So rather than let them go to waste, I decided to make
artichoke risotto.
Since moving to Italy my
fondness for rice has increased considerably. Growing up in America my rice
recipes were, well to be truthful, bland. They consisted mainly of plain rice
with some kind of meat and gravy, usually left overs, or just plain rice when
the potatoes I planned to cook turned out to be past their prime. Once in a
while I would add a chopped pepper along with a diced onion, some cooked ground
beef and a can of tomatoes to boiled white rice to create that bit of American
exotica known as Spanish Rice. But that was all B.I. Before Italy.
My first experience with
real risotto happened one snappy fall day in Torino. Wandering the narrow
streets near Via dei Mercanti, in Torino’s historic center, I stopped for lunch
at a small trattoria. Most of the dishes on the small menu were written in
local Torinese dialect, and knowing the Torinese fondness for animal innards, I
chose the only thing I recognized on the menu – risotto.
Rice Plant |
It changed my life. That
risotto was thick, creamy and fragrant with the rich aroma of Parmesan cheese
and Porcini mushrooms. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience and
had floated off to culinary heaven.
The next day I headed
straight for the grocery store to buy rice. I wanted to duplicate the creamy
risotto I had eaten in Torino. I must have spent 20 minutes or more reading the
labels on all the types of rice on offer, and finally settled on one of the
many that said “ideal for risotto” If I
tell you my first attempt at risotto making was a success, I’d be lying. It
wasn’t bad, but it lacked that creamy consistency of the Torino risotto.
A year or so later I moved
to Milan for work and much to my surprise I discoverd the Lombards are rice
eaters. They prefer it over pasta. It turns out rice has been the primary food
crop in Lombardy for more than 500 years, thanks to Francesco Sforza, the Duke
of Milan. After all the wars and famines and bouts of Bubonic plague, the Duke searched
for a grain that could be easily grown in quantities large enough to feed the
expanding population. He found what he was looking for – rice.
Leonardo da Vinci's Irrigation System Still Working in Italian Rice Paddys |
After a wobbly start, rice production
took off in the mid-1400’s when the Duke hired Leonardo da Vinci to design an
irrigation system for the rice fields he had create in and around Vigevano, the
town where the Duke was born. The Duke then applied the same system to all the
other rice farms in his dukedom.
Today there are more than
4,500 rice farmers in northern Italy and Italy is Europe’s number one rice
producer. More than half of the production comes from the rice fields near
Vigevano, Pavia and Vercelli, all fields that are still irrigated by the same
canal system designed by Leonardo da Vinci.
But to get back to the point
of this week’s post, artichoke risotto, here’s the recipe I used. It’s from a
cookbook called Risotto, a Taste of Milan, written by Constance Arkin and her
husband Rosario Del Nero. I’m going to give you the recipe as it is in the book,
but tell you that I made some small changes. I didn’t have any white wine so used
broth, I didn’t have any green peppercorns either, I didn’t put the cut
artichokes in lemon and water, just water and I used Pecorino Romano instead of
Parmesan cheese.
Artichoke Risotto |
Artichoke Risotto
Approx. 6-8 cups
chicken stock
4 artichokes
Juice of 1 lemon
8 tablespoons (1
stick) real butter
1 medium white onion
cut in small pieces (I think she means diced but not in tiny pieces)
2 cups raw rice
¾ cup Vernaccia di
San Gimignano wine
12 crushed green
peppercorns
¾ cup grated Parmesan
cheese
Bring a large pot of chicken
stock to a boil on a burner at the back of the stove. Once it starts to bubble,
lower the flame so it just simmers. Keep the stock hot while making the
risotto, but not actively boiling.
Cut off and discard the top
third and all spiny leaf tips, from each artichoke. Quarter the remaining
portion, and carefully remove the entire bristly choke using a sharp knife.
Squeeze the juice from the lemon into a small container of water, and put the
artichokes in the water to keep them from turning brown. Cut each piece of
artichoke into thickish slices (so they won’t be totally mushy) when the
risotto is served. Put them back into the lemon water until you are ready to
use them.
Melt six tablespoons (3/4
stick) butter in the risotto pot over a low flame. Add the onion and sauté until
it loses all its color and becomes limp. Toss in the artichoke slices and give
them a chance to bathe in the onion butter. Then add the rice and turn up the
flame slightly, to give the rice a toasting This tostatura is one of the keys
to a good risotto; it provokes a chemical change in the surface starch and
ensures separate gains with a creamy consistency.
Pour in the Vernaccia (or
broth) and let it steam away. Add a cupful of simmering chicken stock (or a
ladle full), mix well, and wait for the rice to absorb it. Stir often. Then add
a second cupful, stir and allow the rice to absorb that too. Repeat this
procedure, stirring almost continuously, until the rice is almost tender, but a
little firm. With the last cupful of broth, throw in the peppercorns and stir. This
should take 25-30 minutes.
Then turn off the flame and
add the last two tablespoons of butter and the grated cheese. Mix, cover for a
minute or two and then serve immediately. You can offer more cheese at the
table if you like.
My suggestions: Two cups of
raw rice makes a lot of risotto, so you’ll need a big, fairly deep frying pan.
I used one cup of rice and 5 artichokes, but they were the small, spiny
artichokes the Ligurians prefer. And, you really do have to stand there and
stir this the entire time, but it’s so worth it. Buon appetito.
No comments:
Post a Comment