True fact: I studied abroad in Rome. Also true: My Italian is like my love life, that is, non-existent.
During my stay there, I learned three really crucial things about Italian gastronomic culture:
NUMBER ONEEverything about food is serious business. Who you eat with, what you eat and when, it's all quite important. Therefore, you NEVER have your cappuccino after 12pm, you NEVER eat alone or on the go (believe me, if you munch a sandwich or chips on the street, the people, they look at you like you're
nuts. Pretty different from Taiwanese culture where half our food is
made to be eaten on the go), and you NEVER sauce your pasta wrong. Bolognese with spaghetti? Feel the wrath of Italian chefs and wise old nonnas
everywhere.
NUMBER TWOPasta and pizza every day is totally and completely normal. You will eat very little else for so cheap and so commonly in Italy. I had a professor who swore she had to eat one of each a day, or else she didn't feel right. Guys, this lady was like a
size two (that's another thing: I don't think I saw one overweight, badly dressed Italian under thirty, guy or girl, my entire time there; tell me how that is possible with so much carbs and alcohol in their daily diet?! Count me envious)
Best pizza topping ever? A sunny-side up egg. Best pizza I ever had? In Napoli, creamed corn pizza. Damn, people, it was fantastic.
NUMBER THREEAl dente. Just. Do it. There is nothing worse than overcooked pasta. (That said, when making risotto, I cooked the rice fully because, hello, I'm making food for Chinese family. Undercooked rice is anathema in my household! I still endure teasing for that one little insignificant time when I forgot to add water to the slow cooker and ended up with a pot of uncooked rice after an hour.)
Anyways, I decided on a whim to try something Italian-- it was between polenta and risotto, both northern dishes. The reason risotto won out? Not because the fam likes rice better, but would you believe it? Trader Joe only had tubes of polenta, no dried cornmeal. Fail, Joe the T. So I picked up some
arborio rice and fresh mushrooms instead.
The first time I had risotto was in Rome, on a weekend afternoon, at a local cafe in Testaccio where we occasionally studied and watched soccer games (the Italians and their
calcio is another area of serious business that shall be summed up in two bits: it's quite intense, and I have a Totti jersey!).
Risotto con funghi sounded delicious and simple, and I figured it was going to be my next favorite spin on rice forever.
With one bite, I'd thought my
world would change.
Actually, what really happened was, I thought they'd forgotten to fully cook the rice, and I was too embarrassed to say anything to the waiter about it. It wasn't until I faced the same dilemma a couple more times that I realized the Italian taste for
al dente ran in their rice dishes as well.
Anyways, there's no point to the story, except that a) I remember my first taste of risotto and b) I probably would have liked it more if the person making the rice had had bad timing. Still, risotto was a dish that stayed with me-- its texture is incredibly creamy and thick, the flavors potent with each bite. There's rarely any cheese involved in its making, except as a garnish or light flavoring; instead, the thick richness comes from being cooked with broth and stirred constantly throughout the process. Making this is rather labor intensive, and not for low-maintenance cookers, but the end result is well-worth it, imho!
Risotto con funghi, or Risotto with mushrooms*You'll need:
1/3 cup dried wild mushrooms, preferably porcini (I used a dried mushroom mix from Costco that included porcinis, which when making this dish is the mushroom of choice, obvs.)
1 1/2 cups fresh cultivated mushrooms (I used cremini for this, and threw in about two cups)
juice of 1/2 a lemon
1/3 cup butter
2 tbsp finely chopped parsley (I used dried)
4 cups beef or chicken stock, preferably home-made (psshhh yeah, whatever. I used canned chicken stock.)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, finely chopped (I ended up with a medium red one)
1 1/2 cups medium grain risotto rice, such as arborio (just use arborio; you can find it lots of places)
1/2 dry white wine (used rice wine-- woohoo, Asian kitchen!)
salt, pepper
3 tbsp freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese (I caved and actually did buy some fresh Parmesan to grate. I'm a sucker for cheeses)
I also added half a cob worth of corn kernels, because I happened to have some *shrugs*. I tossed them in with the onions.
serves 3-4
1. Place the dried mushrooms in a small bowl with about 1 1/2 cups warm water. Soak for at least 40 minutes. Rinse the mushrooms thoroughly. Filter the soaking water through a strainer lined with paper towels (I folded a bounty in fours for this part), and save the water for later.

2. Wipe the fresh mushrooms with a damp cloth (Bounty again; also, wiping is apparently the correct way to wash a mushroom. I guess you learn something new every day!) and slice finely. Place in a bowl and toss with the lemon juice. In a large heavy frying pan or casserole melt one third of the butter. Stir in the fresh sliced mushrooms and cook over moderate heat until they give up their juices and begin to brown. Stir in the parsley, cook for 30 seconds more, and remove to a side dish.

Look! Creminis. Aren't they just too cute?

3. Place the stock in a saucepan. Add the mushroom water from step one, and simmer until needed.
4. Heat another third of the butter with the olive oil in the same pan the mushrooms were cooked in. Stir in the onion, and cook until it is soft and golden. Add the rice, stirring for 1-2 minutes to coat with the oils. Add the soaked and sauteed mushrooms and mix well.

5. Pour in the wine, and cook over moderate heat until it evaporates.
6. Add one small ladleful of the hot stock. Cook until the stock is absorbed or evaporates, stirring the rice with a wooden spoon to prevent it from sticking to the pan. Add a little more stock, and stir until the rice dries out again. Continue stirring and adding the liquid a little at a time (my ratio was about 1/2 ladle: 1.5-2 minutes)

7. After about 20 minutes of cooking time, taste the rise. Add salt and pepper.
8. Continue cooking, stirring and adding the liquid until the rice is
al dente, or tender but still firm to the bite (or, if you prefer, let it cook just a teeny bit longer until it's you know, overcooked by Italian standards). The total cooking time of the risotto may be from 20-35 minutes. If you run our of stock, use hot water, but do not worry if the rice is done before you have used up all the stock.
9. Remove the risotto pan from heat. Stir in the remaining butter and the Parmesan or Romano. Grind in a little black pepper and taste again for salt. Allow the risotto to rest for 3-4 minutes before serving.

Final thoughts? Holy crap, if this is how risotto is made, no wonder grandmothers spend their whole days just cooking. That said, the result is pretty delicious, and I definitely would make this again; plus, the fam did like it. With the amount os sweating and arm-workingouting though, I may wait until the winter to do this again, lol.
B!
*recipe, copied with minor adaptations from: p.126, Italian: the essence of mediterranean cuisine by Carla Capalbo.