Next to a steak … or a salad … or simply on its own with a glass of wine (or a Fresca, if that’s more your poison), there are few things more perfectly simple than Risotto.

Grate 2 cups of cheese. Peel and finely dice 3 to 4 cloves of garlic. Dice ½ of a large onion. Heat a large skillet over medium-low heat and add 1 tablespoon of Olive Oil. Then add 1 tablespoon of butter. Throw in the garlic and onion and sauté for a couple of minutes until the onion is translucent. Add 1 pound of Arborio rice and stir to coat the rice thoroughly. Adding 1 cup at a time, add 7-8 ounces of chicken broth, stirring constantly after each addition. As soon as it appears that the rice has absorbed each helping of broth, add in the next helping. Do not stop stirring. This process will take at least 20 minutes. Rice is done when it no longer has a hard bite. When more of the broth is absorbed pour in 1 to 1 ½ cups of heavy cream. Next add the grated cheese and stir thoroughly. Add in plenty of fresh cracked pepper and about 1 to 2 tablespoons of chopped chives. Add salt to taste. Make it. Make it now. Eat! Enjoy!

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Parmesan, Romano, Or Asiago Cheese (or A Mixture Of All Three)

2 c. Parmesan, Romano, Or Asiago Cheese (or A Mixture Of All Three)

The first time I ever tasted Risotto, I was living and working in Los Angeles, which means black pumps only left my feet for an average of about seven hours a day, i.e. only when I slept. Anyway, our office went out to dinner one night with the CEO and the CFO and the COO, all visiting from Connecticut, and when the waitress took our order, all three of the big wigs ordered the special of the night: Risotto. Because I wanted to be a big wig too, I went ahead and ordered Risotto too. I had no idea what it even was. But if it was good enough for those homeboy big wigs, it was good enough for me.

I don’t remember anything else that happened that evening, and it’s not because of the 874 bottles of chardonnay that passed around the table; it’s because once I took the first bite of that Risotto all creamy and textural and perfectly flavorful—I was transported to another plane of existence entirely. After that first bite, I lost all feeling in my elbows, my eyes closed softly, and my scalp began to tingle, and not because the Santa Ana winds were in high gear that night. After that first bite, my life changed forever. I had eaten a perfectly prepared Risotto. And I never wanted to go back to the way I was before.

Well, I wouldn’t mind weighing 123 again. That would be nice. But you see, Risotto and 123 are not harmonious. They do not mesh. They can not coexist. They war violently, and only one can win.

In my world, Risotto won. Long, long ago.

There are dozens and dozens of variations on Risotto: stirring in fresh pumpkin, adding lots of fresh herbs, mushrooms, shrimp…you name it. And though I love jazzing it up from time to time, most of the time I like to strip it down to a simpler, more basic recipe: a little garlic, a little cream, and lots of freshly grated cheese. Because it’s hard to improve on perfection.

The only downside to Risotto—well, besides the fact that it establishes permanent residence on your bottom—is that it takes around thirty minutes to make, and that thirty minutes is spent slaving over the stove, slowly adding in liquid in increments, then stirring until it reaches the right texture. In fact, the phrase “slaving over a hot stove” originated in a tiny town in Italy, when a cobbler actually chained his dutiful wife to their kitchen stove for three weeks, forcing her to make Risotto over and over and over. Chilling tale, isn’t it?

Okay, so I made that up. But Risotto does require a little effort so just make sure you plan for that. I happen to think that’s part of the joy of Risotto, though—the organic process of cooking and stirring and cooking and stirring…plus it burns an extra twelve calories so you can have an extra…grain or two.

Let’s go make it!





The Cast of Characters: Butter, Olive Oil, Onion, Garlic, Arborio Rice, Chicken Broth, Heavy Cream, any one or combination of Parmesan, Romano, and Asiago cheese, Salt, Pepper, and Chives. Get ready for greatness, my homies.

Before we go any farther, I bring you the following breaking news alert:





Pioneer Woman does not use processed Parmesan cheese in her Risotto.

She uses…



ACK! Parmigiano Reggiano! What’s gotten into me? What’s the world coming to? WHAT’S HAPPENING?

You can use whatever cheese you like. I happen to like the real stuff for this recipe—it just takes the final dish over the top in flavor.

Okay, first we need to grate the cheese, because if we wait ’til the Risotto’s on the stove we won’t be able to break away long enough to get it grated.

Basically, you need a total of 2 cups grated cheese.





I start with the Parmigiano Reggiano. It makes me feel like, totally awesome.





Ahhh, yes. There’s my baby. Come to mama, baby. Come to mama.





I also like to use a cheese called Pecorino Romano. It’s very bitey and flavorful.





It’s also slightly softer and easier to grate. And that’s always a nice break.





As you grate the different cheeses, just throw it into a bowl together. Then it’ll be easy to dump it in at the end.





This time I used Parmesan (top left), Romano (top right), and Asiago (front). But you can use all of one or just two if that’s what you have.





Now peel 3 to 4 cloves of garlic. I used 3 because I’m 39 and I have this thing called HEARTBURN if I eat garlic after 5:00. Yeah, and my Arthur-itis is givin’ me fits and my goiter is goitering and I have liver spots on my hands. It’s all downhill from here.





Just chop the garlic pretty finely.





Please note: This is not my favorite knife. My favorite knife was in the sink and I didn’t have time to wash it. And I realized I no longer like any knife except that one.





Next, dice 1/2 large onion.

And now it’s time to slave over a hot stove! Do it for chained up Italian wives everywhere.





Heat a large skillet over medium to medium-low heat, and add 1 tablespoon of olive oil.





Then, add in 1 tablespoon butter. It’s for the flavor, man.





Now throw in the garlic and onion, and don’t be like me. The heat was too high and it sorta fried the garlic a little.

But I totally meant to do that. As far as you know.





Go ahead and saute for a couple of minutes until the onion is translucent.





Now! Dump in 1 pound Arborio rice, right on top of things.





Then stir it around to coat the rice thoroughly.

Now! Here’s what we’re going to do. Using approximately 7 to 8 cups of chicken stock or broth, we’re going to add in about 1 cup at a time, stirring constantly after each addition. As soon as it appears the helping of broth has been absorbed by the rice, add in the next helping. It’s important not to leave the stove, and not to stop stirring gently.





Here’s the first addition of broth.





Stir it around for a minute or two…





And when it looks like the liquid is mostly absorbed…





Add in a little more of the liquid. We’re going to repeat this several times until we’ve used all the liquid.

NOTE: It’s important not to get the skillet too hot. I really keep it on the low side of medium; you don’t want the rice to start sticking to the bottom of the pan. And remember to stir.

Sorry I’m so bossy.





Here’s another liquid addition…





It’s amazing how quickly the rice absorbs the liquid. Blessed is the rice that hungers and thirsts for chicken broth; for it shall be filled.

So basically, you’re going to keep up this craziness for at least 20 minutes, maybe more. The point is to add the liquid in small doses, and stir it as it absorbs.

*20 minutes elapses

Oooh, look! We’re getting close. When it starts to get puffy like this, you’ll want to taste a couple of grains. If it still has a hard/firm bite to it, keep up the liquid/cooking process. The amount of liquid you’ll need to use varies; not all Arborio behaves the same.

*5 more minutes elapses

It’s ready! I tasted a few grains and though it’s still firm and nice, the hard bite is gone.

And now. And now it’s time to get serious.





When most of the liquid is absorbed, pour in 1 to 1 1/2 cups heavy cream. Don’t be afraid. I wouldn’t lead you astray.





Next, dump in the grated cheese.





DON’T BE AFRAID. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.





Now stir the whole dadgum mess together. And go ahead and pass out now so you can save up your energy to eat.





Add in plenty of black pepper…





And a tablespoon or two of chopped chives.





Next, add a little salt if it needs it, but remember the cheese is quite salty. Give it one final stir, and serve it right away. Because I can’t wait another minute or I’m going to wig out.

But in a ladylike way, of course.





To serve, just place a not-too-large-because-it’s-richer-than-all-get-out portion in your favorite dish. I think I’ll go for this Jadite soup plate.





Sprinkle some chives on top (or any ol’ herb will do.)





And if you’re feeling fancy, do something like this. Only unlike me, please give your hand a dusting of bronzing powder. Man, that’s a pale hand.





It may not look like much, but let me tell you one thing: This Risotto…is delicious. There’s no other word I can use.





Next to a steak…or a salad…or simply on its own with a glass of wine (or a Fresca, if that’s more your poison), there are few things more perfectly simple than Risotto.

Make it. Make it now. Eat! Enjoy!

*burp*

Excuse me.

Love,

P-Dub