1 day ago
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Parmigiano reggiano, grana padano, lodigiano, trentingrana and the other members of the grana-type cheese family (there are many, and all are worth seeking out) are far from cheap. Which is why it is important to use every last bit, including the rind with the last few millimetres of cheese still attached. That functions as a sort of highly flavoured and fatty stock cube that can be added to soups and stews. The best place to keep your precious rinds is in a plastic bag or airtight container in the freezer, which also preserves flavour and stops them drying out, until they’re pulled out and added directly to whatever needs a boost, or to make one of the nicest, most delicately flavoured and cheesy broths, which in turn makes a lovely risotto.
I have written about risotto many times here, with each version a new favourite, and providing lessons in a dish that, regardless of how much I learn and practise, I am always chasing: the right proportions of rice to broth, as well as a pleasing consistency and texture. I know I am not alone in this, and was reassured by a friend from Bergamo, in Lombardy, who told me that, despite having made thousands of risotti, he feels much the same, that every pan is an adventure and personal challenge, and that he wouldn’t have it any other way. This is his recipe, which he describes as the simplest of risotti and a layered celebration of grana cheese.
The advice I collected from this version is mostly noisy: the rice should clatter around the pan when you first add it; the alcohol should whoosh as it hits the rice and evaporate significantly before you start adding the broth, which should also bubble noisily when it meets the hot pan. For the final step – that is, the beating of butter and cheese into the hot rice – a loose slapping sound is a good sign that the texture is nice and loose, and not dissimilar to a creamy porridge.
Risotto in bianco (white risotto with parmesan broth)
Serves 4
3-4 parmigiano reggiano, grana padano, lodigiano, trentingrana rinds, with 1cm cheese attached
1 onion, peeled and halved
1 stick celery, halved
1 small carrot, halved
Salt and black pepper
2 shallots, peeled and finely diced
40g butter
360g carnaroli or arborio rice
½ glass dry white wine, or vermouth
60g parmesan, grana padano, lodigiano, trentingrana, grated, to finish
Put the parmesan rinds, onion, celery, carrot and a pinch of salt in a large pan, add two litres of water and bring almost to the boil. Turn down to a simmer and cook for an hour, adding a little more water if it reduces too much (at the end, you want a litre and a half of gently-flavoured broth). Taste, lift out the rinds (they will be soft and edible – a cook’s treat) and veg (discard), then add more salt to the broth, if needed. Leave the broth in its pan at the back of the stove.
Working in a high-sided saute pan over a medium-low heat, soften the shallot in half the butter, then add the rice, stirring so it clatters against the sides of the pan. Add the wine or vermouth and leave it to bubble for a minute or two.
Glance at the clock, bearing in mind that your risotto will take about 17-20 minutes from now, and start adding the broth ladle by ladle, making sure each one is absorbed by the rice before adding the next and stirring constantly; the rice will swell before your eyes. Once the rice is plump and cooked though, pull the pan off the heat, wait 30 seconds, then add the remaining butter and the parmesan, plus some salt and pepper, if you think it needs it, and beat vigorously for a soft, wavy consistency.
To serve, swiftly ladle the risotto on to warm plates, then bash the bottom of each plate against a worktop so the rice spreads evenly. You could dot the top with good balsamic vinegar, or simply serve the very white risotto alongside a salad of colourful leaves.
