Thoughts on Risotto (& Risotto Milanese recipe)

It took an hour and a half of near constant stirring, but the first risotto I ever made was a reasonable success. Aside from the temporal commitment, of course. I realised my mistake several years, and several thousand risottos, later. It was my first sojourn into the real world - a generously appointed kitchen in a shared house in west London. Fresh out of university and brimming with ideas and a gastronomic curiosity that could not be sated. I made chicken stock and dutifully stored it in the freezer, little cubes of bouillon ready and waiting to be used for ‘enriching a sauce or making a quick noodle soup’ or whatever else the cookbook had said. I went for risotto. I missed the instruction that informed it is necessary to use stock at a gentle boil when adding to the rice and instead plopped large dice of frozen stock into the pan every time it looked a little dry. Thankfully I’ve learned a few things since then.

My second lesson in making risotto was slightly more pressured and came a few years later in the kitchen at Le Calandre, a three star restaurant in Padua, Italy, owned by Max Alajmo who, at just 28, became the youngest ever chef to be awarded three Michelin stars. During the final of Masterchef, I was tasked with cooking the restaurant’s signature dish for the chef and his brother, aided only by a quick run through, some brief words of wisdom (mostly in Italian) and an abstract drawing of a cross sectioned plant. A young chef de partie was on hand to assist if I got terribly stuck but mostly it was up to me to to recreate what seemed to be the simplest dish on the restaurant’s fifteen course tasting menu.

And that’s the thing with risotto: it is, in essence, very simple but that also means there is nowhere to hide. A badly made risotto is a slog to eat, mouthful after mouthful of too stodgy, too wet, too crunchy or too dry rice. Seasoning is a tightrope and needs to be done cautiously, often and with a delicate hand. Additions need to be made at precisely the right time in order to ensure adequate doneness of shellfish, vegetables, herbs or meat. Those last couple of ladle fulls of stock need to be dribbled with care and the final flourish of butter and cheese must not negatively affect the cuisson of the rice or the texture and seasoning of the finished dish. There are so many potential hurdles that anyone even thinking of adding a risotto to the menu of a three Michelin starred restaurant needs to be absolutely confident in their ability and that of their cooks.

Thankfully my efforts were deemed worthy. Max and his brother insisted that the dish was as good as that which graced their menu and consequently I’ve made every risotto in exactly the same way ever since, both at home and at the restaurant where it often finds its way onto the menu, especially at this time of year when we yearn for food that is comforting, warming and wholesome. Ever mindful of the increasing trend towards veganism (at Vanderlyle we serve around a dozen vegan diners a month), we’ve even developed a completely dairy free version that eschews the traditional cheese and butter for ingredients that are entirely plant based and result in a dish that is virtually indistinguishable from the traditional recipe, although whether it would pass muster in Italy remains to be seen.

Risotto Milanese

This is a near replica of the dish I cooked at Le Calandre back when I filmed Masterchef ten years ago. It is traditionally accompanied by slow-cooked veal shin and a sharp gremoulata but also makes for a satisfying dish when paired with nothing but itself. Don’t be shy with the saffron - not only does it lend a beautiful colour but the scent and flavour is so important to the dish that it’s a shame to scrimp. Although it’s slightly more expensive, I’ve found Iranian saffron to be the be

Serves Four

Four banana shallots, peeled and very finely diced

Two cloves garlic, peeled and finely grated

25ml olive oil

125ml dry white wine

200g risotto rice

1.5 - 2l good quality stock

2g saffron threads

Fine sea salt

30g unsalted butter

50g finely grated Parmesan cheese

Juice of half a lemon

Bring the stock to a gentle boil in a saucepan and leave over a gentle heat. The stock should be near boiling but not boiling too ferociously so as to evaporate. Add tablespoon of stock to the saffron in a small bowl. Add the olive oil, shallots and garlic to a sauce pan and cook gently over a low heat for 20 minutes to soften but do not allow them to colour. Add the wine and boil until the liquid has reduced to a volume about ⅕ of the starting quantity.

Remove the shallot, garlic and wine mix from the pan into a small bowl and wipe out the saucepan. Add the rice and cook in the dry pan for 3-4 minutes to allow the grains to heat up but not to toast or take on any colour. The hotter the rice, the faster it will absorb the stock. When the rice is hot, add the shallot, garlic and wine mix back to the pan, stir briefly and then add two ladles of stock. It will boil immediately. Stir and taste regularly: adding a little salt often through the cooking process will result in a properly seasoned dish as opposed to one that tastes salty. Add stock incrementally through the cooking process whenever the rice begins to look dry. When the rice is almost cooked, but still has a little bite (if you squeeze a grain, the central germ should split into three distinct pieces - total cooking time for the rice should be 12-14 minutes), remove from the heat and stir in the butter, parmesan and saffron infused stock. Add a final half ladle of stock and stir rapidly to incorporate the fats. Season with salt, if necessary and the lemon juice and serve straight away.

(This article and recipe was originally published in the November issue of Cambridge Edition Magazine. Read it here)