Rice Bowls

Quite some time ago now, I read a beautiful, inspiring book called An Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace, by a young woman named Tamar Adler. I had to buy it with a title like that, plus I was wooed by seeing that the foreword was written by Alice Waters. 

She gives lots of seemingly separate, little ideas for being wiser in the kitchen, but that actually stand as big ideas because you put them into practice and they become habits that you don't know how you lived without before-- like saving the rinds of Parmesan cheese to throw into a pot of soup, or the idea that an egg can turn anything into a meal. 

The book has pretty ambiguous chapter titles that, until you read them, don't really tell you what the section is about, like "How to Live Well" (know how to cook dried beans and create many satisfying, humble meals from them), "How to Snatch Victory from the Jaws of Defeat" (an essential skill for cooking is to sharpen one's strategies for turning inevitable failures into successes), and "How to Catch your Tail" (save the tail ends of dishes, the peels and scrapings and leftover sauces, see them in new ways, and use them to elevate your cooking).

 

She embeds recipes, strategies, and tiny tips within the larger philosophy of eating gracefully and economically. She paints a picture of being comfortable, smart, and unpretentious in her cooking. She doesn't waste but instead uses everything to the fullest, with one lovely, satisfying meal leading naturally and forever into the next and the next and the next. I found it all so simple and so down-to-earth and also empowering.

Adler says that a good amount of rice turns any amount of anything else into a meal-- and that a lot of people in the world live on rice at the center of their diets. "Rice bowls" is one of her good ideas that is not a recipe but a simple strategy I am so glad to have in my back pocket. She suggests topping a hearty portion of rice with the dribs and drabs of other ingredients you have around to make a meal. We find this completely satisfying and filling, requiring only the time it takes to cook a fresh pot of rice and causing no added stress on the busiest/least inspired of weekday evenings, which is exactly when we eat it. 

 

Rice Bowls

from Tamar Adler's An Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace

• A pot of cooked rice
• Little bowls of various ingredients that you have. She suggests: 
• Something warm: like a fried egg on top of each bowl (we think this is a must) and/or stir-fried or roasted vegetables or other vegetable leftovers, chopped, rewarmed with a bit of broth, water, or drizzle of oil 
• Something cool and raw: sliced radishes, chopped cucumber, avocado, tomato, fresh herbs, celery
• Something vibrant and intense-flavored: pickled chiles, chutney, salsa
• Also if you have it: leftover beef, chicken, or pork, chopped and rewarmed in a pan 
• She does not suggest but we routinely add: crumbled or grated cheese over the top of everything (cheddar, Parmesan, or blue cheese...) 
• Salt and/or pepper to taste

Fill wide pasta bowls with a hearty helping of hot rice. Put various ingredients you enjoy atop your own bowl, and enjoy the great combinations and layers of flavor, while feeling satiated in your belly and virtuous because you've used up that half a can of chopped jalapenos or little bit of fresh cilantro that would have made it to the compost bin if not for this dinner.

Ode to Risotto

I first had risotto sometime between 2002 and 2004 while I was working for some local publications and had the fun job of dining at local restaurants and writing up nice things about them. (They weren't reviews, but more like extended advertisements, as I was supposed to say only nice things, which sometimes was challenging. And I didn't then know anything about wine so I missed the opportunity to try good ones on my boss's bill--I only ever ordered "white wine" or sometimes "Pinot Grigio" at the time, but still it was a great gig). I had my first risotto at Pane Salute, a restaurant in Woodstock, Vermont, that serves authentic Italian food and that is one of the most special restaurants in our area, in just about every way. The risotto was transcendent. It was creamy and perfectly seasoned. It showcased ingredients that were fresh and local on that summer evening that we ate on their tiny patio. After every bite, it made you want another. Seriously, one of my best food memories that was not part of a food-themed vacation.

From then on, when I saw risotto on a restaurant menu, I ordered it with the thinking that it was not something I was going to make at home. I was intimidated by it. It seemed so delicate and just-so. You had to pay so much attention to it. The little I knew about how risotto was made made me compare it to caring for an orchid, or making caramel-- the latter something I still can't manage without my sister's close supervision. 

 
But of course, this is the story of my finding out I was wrong! Risotto as an absolutely delectable, nearly perfect food, just one that takes some care and attention. Risotto takes some time-- probably close to 45 minutes from start to finish, though I haven't timed it. It does not need to be stirred constantly, though you can't walk away from it. You have to stay in the kitchen and keep a close eye on it and stir it gently, almost constantly. But that's the hardest part. Other than that it is simplicity-- of ingredient and technique-- in a pot. 

 
If you have white wine, a wedge of Parmesan, Arborio rice, and something oniony in your house (and I hope you do!), you can make delicious risotto. The basic formula is:

• Melt butter in a heavy large pot.
• Saute some finely diced onion or shallot in it.
• Add about a cup of Arborio rice and stir it for just a minute.
• Add about a half cup of dry white wine and stir for a couple of minutes while it deglazes the pan and evaporates.
• Finally, finish the risotto for the next 20-30 minutes or so by adding a cup full of chicken broth at a time that you have gently simmering in a separate pot, and stirring gently until that liquid is absorbed (until your almost-constantly-stirring spoon leaves a visible trail for a second in the risotto), and then repeat...until you have a delicious creamy-looking (yet cream-free) dish of tender grains with just the slightest tooth left to them.
• Stir in grated Parmesan and a bit more butter and serve.

It is not a dish I make on weeknights (anymore) when I am delicately balancing dinner preparation with playing knee hockey, finding jobs for Willem to do, and singing the Star-Spangled Banner (or other song of the moment) by request. It is, instead, a Sunday meal I can very happily make when the adult-to-toddler ratio in the house is 2:1, while I sip a glass of white wine (from the bottle I had to open in order to deglaze the risotto pot-- which will therefore pair perfectly with the meal). It is sort of a meditative/therapeutic meal to make because you do have to focus on it, absorb yourself into it. You can't multi-task. But that makes it all the more special. I always feel when sitting down to a meal with a nice wide shallow bowl of risotto at its center like singing, "Ta-da! Can you believe I made this?"

Some might serve risotto as a side dish, as my mother-in-law did when she asked me to make a favorite butternut-squash one to serve alongside a ham and a few other things for a nice holiday meal. But we love risotto so much in our house, we serve it as the meal itself with just a little chunk of crusty bread and some butter on the side, and maybe a simple little salad.

There are tons of risotto variations and flavorings. Our household favorites have been with mashed butternut squash stirred in, or with bacon on top, or with blue cheese and spinach. These days we love to have pure and simple risotto garnished at the table with a generous spoonful of our own pesto, thawed from the freezer. You could also garnish it with roasted chicken, or muffaletta, or with chopped-up roasted veggies.

Basic Risotto
Ingredient amounts from an Everyday Food recipe, informed by every risotto I've made

6 C chicken broth
1/4 C butter
1 large shallot or a 1/4 of an onion, finely diced
1 C Arborio rice
1/2 C dry white wine
2 T or more grated Parmesan, plus more for serving
salt and pepper

Bring broth to a simmer in a medium saucepan and keep it warm.

In a good-sized heavy pot, melt half the butter. Cook shallot (covered or uncovered, over low or medium, depending on whether you want them to brown-- I do covered on fairly low temp) until it softens. Add rice and stir about a minute.

Add wine and stir over medium-high until evaporated, about 2 minutes. Add about a cup of broth with a ladle or a small glass measuring cup dipped into your saucepan. Cook, stirring almost constantly, on medium heat, until broth is mostly absorbed and you can see a trail left by your spoon in the pot. Repeat with additions of remaining broth (or sometimes not all of it) for 20 - 30 minutes, until rice is creamy and tender but still al dente. 

Turn off heat. Stir in remaining butter, Parmesan, salt, and pepper, and serve with a big spoonful of pesto swirled into it if desired.

One-Pan Pasta

This is my new favorite weeknight pasta dinner. It is so beautifully simple and so versatile. I got the idea and the technique but did not love the actual ingredients in one of the latest issues of Martha Stewart Living. The original recipe called for pasta, tomatoes, the onion and garlic, fresh basil, and 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes. I did that, but even though I enjoy spicy food sometimes, it was just too much. The spice was distracting, and that was disappointing. (And poor Willem, since I hadn't even considered him when throwing in all those red pepper flakes. Partway through the meal, after shoveling in his pasta for a while, fussed, "My mouth is buggin'!" as he flapped uselessly at his open mouth. So I learned my lesson there. Good thing he's such a good sport.)

But the reason the recipe was such a jackpot regardless of the red pepper flakes was it had this awesome creamy/brothy sauce to it, but with no cream or broth in it, just a result of the cooked down water and the garlic and little bit of oil. It had a great depth, a richness that qualified it as a good hearty bowl of pasta for dinner. The skinny onions were also magnificent, just a touch of tooth left to them having been simmered in all the other goodness. 

I very soon made it again, and used the same amount of pasta, kept the cherry tomatoes and the onion and the garlic since those seemed like perfect base ingredients, and then, since I wasn't feeling full of really creative ideas that night, I added just a drained jar of artichoke hearts. I left out the flakes but kept the amounts of oil and water the same and used the technique of putting it all in my favorite big straight-sided skillet that I use nearly every day all at once and then cooking it all at a steady boil for a few minutes. 

It was perfect the second time. I think I'd go for two jars of artichokes next time since they were so good and were a little too few and far between. You could use any pasta shape, but I like not using a long variety since it makes the stirring in the pan easier and things integrate better. The tomatoes could definitely be canned ones. We were brainstorming about other goodies that could be thrown in at the beginning depending on what you had or felt like-- asparagus, sliced diagonally in 1- or 2-inch pieces, beans, peas, corn, or lots of other veggies, olives... we could easily eat this every week and not get tired of it in all its simplicity for a long while.

One-Pan Pasta 
adapted from Martha Stewart Living

12 oz. pasta
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved, or can of diced or equivalent
1 onion, thinly sliced
2 jars artichoke hearts or other ingredient(s) based on taste (olives, other veggies)
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
2 T olive oil
2 t salt 
1/4 t pepper
4 1/2 C water
Parmesan cheese for the table

Put everything except Parmesan in large straight-sided skillet. Bring to boil over high heat. Boil, stirring frequently, until pasta is al dente and water has nearly evaporated and there is a sauciness to it-- about 9 minutes. 

At the table, drizzle with additional olive oil and grate Parmesan over it.