The Art of Risotto

Can I start with the language lesson? The second vowel in the word "risotto" is pronounced as in "hop", not "hope" (and yes, the same goes for "doppio" which has nothing to do with dope).

With that off my chest (I hate waiters who "correct" my pronunciation), risotto is a pure art form. Not only the preparation (broth added ladle by ladle and butter stirred in at just the right moment make for the creamy yet sticky texture with a nice bite inside the grains of rice--never walk away from a cooking risotto), but also the quality of your ingredients can make or break your dish. The rice, for instance, is not just your everyday rice (let alone parboiled), but has to be arborio (just about acceptable) or better yet, carnaroli or vialone nano semifino. Check with your local Italian specialist shop: if he doesn't love you for asking, find yourself another. The saffron in risotto alla milanese is real saffron, not that poor powdery substitute some try to sell you as such. The parsley is the tasty flat-leafed variety often called Italian parsley; the curly variety is all looks and no flavor. The cheese, finally, is something to never economize on: only real parmigiano reggiano will do, grated at home just before starting the dish. It all sounds like food fundamentalism, which in a way it is, but trust me: I've run tests with all matter of ingredients and had them tasted blind to all and sundry, and the difference is very much there. Right: off the pulpit and into the kitchen.

Risotto alla milanese

Serves 4

- 1 1/4 cup (10 oz) rice (vialone nano semifino, carnaroli or at least arborio)
- 2 large or 3 smaller onions, diced very coarsely
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 tbsp real saffron
- 1 quart chicken or veal stock (do not use cubes)
- 1/2 cup good quality white wine
- 2 oz parmigiano reggiano cheese
- Italian parsley, minced
- 3 + 1 tbsp butter
- olive oil, pepper, salt

Heat the stock to nearly boiling and reduce heat. Add half of the saffron. In a heavy, thick-bottomed pan, heat 2 tbsp olive oil and one tbsp butter. Fry onion on high heat until translucent, reduce heat to half, add rice and fry until shiny. Add minced garlic and stir-fry for another few seconds.

Add wine, turn heat to high, bring to a boil and wait until almost absorbed by the rice. Add one ladle of the stock and wait until absorbed, then add the next and so on. Make sure the stock boils as soon as added and keep stirring with a wooden spoon. Taste regularly: the rice is ready when it is soft and creamy on the outside with a distinct bite on the inside. You will probably not use all the stock; save it for another preparation.

Remove from heat and stir, scraping bottom well. Now stir in the rest of the saffron, 3 tbsp of butter, one third of the grated parmesan and the parsley. Serve immediately in preheated pasta bowls, with the rest of the grated cheese in a separate bowl. In Italy, eaters will tuck in as soon as given their bowl, without waiting for others to be served. This is not bad manners, but respect for this delicate dish.

Come Again?

I had been wondering whether to include typical "Dutch" items and decided I should provided they were funny enough. This one definitely meets that requirement: it's from a mailer I received some time ago from Iens, a major Dutch online restaurant guide. Iens work with volunteers only, and basically anyone can become a "taster". In their newsletter, Iens highlight experiences.

This couple went to a restaurant in Utrecht and list their impressions. "Rather messy", "were not welcomed right away", "quite disappointing", "gambas definitely overcooked", "were given steamed instead of baked potato", "although the wine was nice, it was not what we ordered".

Now I don't know about you, but I have seen people leave restaurants for less. Not this couple, though. Quite the contrary: to Iens' last standard question "Do you plan to return?", the answer is a rather surprising "Yes, definitely".

Who said becoming a taster for Iens required no qualifications? A healthy dose of masochism, at least.

Welcome!

Although I haven't announced The Original Foodie anywhere yet, my stats tell me somebody visited here in the past hour. No referring link, no keyword... just walked in.

Whoever you were (edit: and you probably were Nils, my wonderful hosting provider at Blue Yellow, best service I ever received), you were the first. Welcome to you, and to all others, too!

A Modern Classic?

Who has never dreamed of creating a modern classic? One of those names that everyone knows, like Waldorf Salad, Eggs Benedict or Beef Stroganoff. Such stardom few of us achieve. It's a lot like playing the violin: we can't all start off and be Yehudi Menuhin, as the old Sparks song goes.

Here's my pitch for glory, though: a delicious salad full of nutty, smoky flavors and a healthy dose of greens. And I've thought up a catchy name for it: Chicado Salad, which of course refers to its two main ingredients chicken and avocado. Another reason for trying it is that you'll make it in less than fifteen minutes.

Chicado Salad

serves 4

- 2 chicken breasts, smoked
- 3 avocados, ripe but firm
- 8 oz. bacon strips, smoked
- 12 oz. mixed greens (such as romaine, escarole, arugula)
- 4 tbsp fresh dill, minced
- olive oil for frying
- walnut oil for seasoning

Fry bacon in olive oil over high heat until crisp. Let cool slightly. Cut avocados in fours, peel, remove stone and dice. Dice chicken breasts. Slice bacon (it will crumble, which is great) and mix with avocado and chicken dice.

Place greens in four large (pasta) bowls. Top with avocado/chicken/bacon and season with walnut oil. Sprinkle dill over plates and serve with an oaky and smokey chardonnay.

Gets In Your Eyes

In a way, it's weird. I had been to countries where smoking is much more an everyday thing than it is here in the Netherlands. Ten years ago, I would have told you with conviction that we'd be among the first to put a ban on smoking in restaurants. And yet, we don't have one yet, whereas countries such as Britain, Ireland, Italy, Belgium and France do.

What's more, the ban that is supposed to become effective on 1st July, is still under heavy fire from both the smokers lobby and the national association of café and restaurant owners. The latest and greatest is that smaller businesses are "not ready" yet to introduce the ban. Not ready! How "ready" does one need to be? It's not like all matter of equipment is required, is it? Basically, what you do is take the ashtrays off the table, isn't it?

What they mean, of course, is that they haven't found a means yet of keeping nicotine addicts on board. We're talking common fear of losing business. And why? It's quite clear that no such thing has occurred in several countries that have preceded ours. Smokers will joyfully step outside to light up and if there are major problems, I have not heard about them.

Especially the restaurant owners' attitude is one I cannot understand. They obviously have not realized the huge business potential of a smoke-free environment for diners. I, for one, would choose a non-smoking restaurant over a place where everything comes with smoke sauce anytime. And thick sauce it is, for few smokers realize what every non-smoker knows: that the sharp smell of smoke is everywhere the minute the first cigarette is lit in any restaurant room.

Now every restaurateur knows--or should know--that tasting food is more a matter of the nose than of the tongue. Imagine a theater owner who smilingly allows patrons to use their mobile phones during a concert or play. Why, then, are restaurateurs so eager to let part of the clientele ruin their product?

A colleague of mine once had dinner in the kitchen of a Dutch top restaurant (*** Michelin). Hardly seated, a number of the diners tossed fliptops and lighters onto the table, which prompted the kitchen staff not to admonishment, but to the placement of ashtrays. Surrealistic!

Well, the clock is ticking and guaranteed smoke-free eating will be around in just one month. In theory, at least. Oh, did I forget to mention? Nicotine addiction among Dutch chefs is unusually high...