Risotto is often described as temperamental, even theatrical. I have never found that to be true.
I learned to cook risotto in Veneto many years ago, where it was treated not as performance but come cosa quotidiana. Since then, it has remained one of my most dependable comfort dishes, especially when the sky turns slate and the air grows heavy. A bowl of risotto does not shout. It steadies.
There are three principles I return to when making it.
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| Mural at a rice field near Veneto, Italy |
The first is the pot. I cook risotto in an enameled cast iron Dutch oven. Even heat distribution is not luxury in rice cookery; it is required. The rice absorbs liquid gradually, and uneven heat disrupts that rhythm. You do not need a Le Creuset, but you do need weight and consistency.
The second is restraint in stirring. The myth insists on constant motion, as though the cook must hover anxiously with wooden spoon in hand. That is unnecessary. The rice moves with the simmer. Stir to prevent sticking and to encourage release of starch, but do not agitate it.
The third is allowance. Rice is sensitive to heat, humidity, and even mood. I keep more broth than I think I will need. It is better to have excess than to reach for water in desperation. The same generosity applies to cheese. Creaminess is built in stages.
With those principles in mind, we arrive at Mare e Suolo — sea and soil.
The sea arrives in the form of abalone. The soil grounds it with pancetta and zucchini. Brine meets fat. Sweetness meets salt. This recipe emerged during a period when I found myself preoccupied with abalone, working it into pastas, gnocchi, and rice. While Calabrian Clams and Abalone Bigoli leaned toward heat and brine, this risotto is quieter. Creamy. Balanced. Composed.
The second is restraint in stirring. The myth insists on constant motion, as though the cook must hover anxiously with wooden spoon in hand. That is unnecessary. The rice moves with the simmer. Stir to prevent sticking and to encourage release of starch, but do not agitate it.
The third is allowance. Rice is sensitive to heat, humidity, and even mood. I keep more broth than I think I will need. It is better to have excess than to reach for water in desperation. The same generosity applies to cheese. Creaminess is built in stages.
With those principles in mind, we arrive at Mare e Suolo — sea and soil.
The sea arrives in the form of abalone. The soil grounds it with pancetta and zucchini. Brine meets fat. Sweetness meets salt. This recipe emerged during a period when I found myself preoccupied with abalone, working it into pastas, gnocchi, and rice. While Calabrian Clams and Abalone Bigoli leaned toward heat and brine, this risotto is quieter. Creamy. Balanced. Composed.
INGREDIENTS
[serves 3 as a main]
one cup of arborio rice, unwashed
a quarter teaspoon of minced garlic
thirty-two ounces of chicken broth
three abalones, shucked, cleaned, and roughly diced
a half cup of zucchini, diced
four ounces of pancetta, diced
a third cup of grated asiago
a third cup of pecorino Romano
a third cup of parmesan
olive oil, to drizzle
Heat a Dutch oven over medium-high heat. In a separate pot, bring the chicken broth to a boil, then reduce to a gentle simmer and keep warm.
Drizzle olive oil into the Dutch oven, enough to lightly coat the bottom. Add the unwashed arborio rice and toast for about two minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the minced garlic and cook for about thirty seconds, just until fragrant.
Add two ladles of warm broth and reduce the heat to medium. Stir once or twice, then allow the rice to absorb the liquid gradually.
While the risotto cooks, heat a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the pancetta and cook until it begins to render. Add the zucchini and sauté together for two to three minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
Continue adding broth one ladle at a time to the rice, stirring occasionally and allowing each addition to be absorbed before adding the next. This process should take about 20 to 30 minutes, until the rice is al dente — tender with a slight resistance at the center. You may not use all of the broth.
Once the rice reaches al dente, reduce the final additions of broth to half-ladles, adjusting to achieve a creamy, flowing consistency.
Stir in the sautéed pancetta and zucchini. Add the diced abalone and immediately turn off the heat; the residual warmth is sufficient to cook it gently.
Combine the cheeses in a bowl. Add a handful at a time to the risotto, stirring to incorporate before adding more, until the texture is creamy and the flavor balanced to your preference. You may not use all of the cheese.
Serve immediately.
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