Asparagus, mint and lemon risotto

Risotto seems to me to be an autumnal or wintery sort of dish. This is partly because it involves standing in front of the stove, stirring, for a reasonable length of time, which, if you're lucky enough to live somewhere warm, could be unpleasant; I don't, and in any case I am happiest when toasting myself somewhere. I have been known to come out of the garden from a bout of sunbathing and turn on the heating once inside the house. I know that this is not something to be proud of, but then if my blog was intended to make me look good, then it would probably have to change genre and become fictional. Anyway the other reason I see risotto as cold-weather food is the combination of ingredients, which end up tasting luxuriously creamy and thus somehow warming. This particular risotto shows my preconceptions to be entirely wrong - risotto is more versatile, I think, than I have typically given it credit for.

A risotto with asparagus is obviously a summer dish. I should be making it with English, local asparagus, in its pitifully short season; I broke all the rules (again) in making it this week. (In my defence, it is a particularly blustery January, and risotto is ideal comfort food - if you think about it, it's almost like baby food with alcohol and cheese - perfect) This risotto also has lemon and mint, which also evoke warmth to me, although I seem to be engaged in a love affair with lemons which has well outlasted the brief summer heatwave. To make it, you make the usual Jamie risotto base, and I did this in advance and let it cool on an oiled baking sheet as he suggests, because this method seems more convenient to me. You chop asparagus stalks into tiny discs and leave the tips whole; add these to the risotto base and add stock in the normal way (see my other risotto posts for an explanation of the Jamie technique. Turn off the heat, beat in butter and Parmesan, chopped mint, lemon zest and juice; season, rest with the lid on, and serve with a smattering of lemon zest and a drizzle of olive oil.



This risotto is a little bit different - Jamie calls it 'simple' and 'clean' and it is; it is somehow fresh and zingy and summery, although it didn't hurt suffer from being served up in the windiest January I can remember. Jamie also suggests varying it by sprinking in freshly picked crab or lobstermeat, or fresh peeled prawns - I can imagine how lovely that would be. But actually I will, probably, wait until this recipe feels more seasonal to try out the various suggested variants on the original. It may be babyfood in disguise, sort of, but that doesn't stop it from being good.

Spinach and goat's cheese risotto

Risotto is the ideal food for toothache, not only because its oozy texture makes it easy to eat, but also because it is bowl-food, comfort food like soup or mashed potato, that warms you up from the inside. It is the kind of food you can eat when you are too tired to bother and when your mouth has been aching for days. I should say at this point that my mouth is much better; the ache hasn't gone completely but it has waned considerably and I feel much more human. This is helped by the fact that I have stopped work for at least 10 days, which has probably kicked my spirits up a few notches and filled me with an extra surge of festive cheer. The gingerbread syrup hasn't arrived by the way - the company Simon used seems to have a particularly unhelpful notion of customer service. When an email is sent informing you that your order has dispatched, you assume it has, well, dispatched, but in the crazy world of British customer service, it could mean anything at all, really. Simon rang to complain and a zombified voice informed him that he couldn't be sure when it dispatched, except that it certainly wasn't on the date that the email had been sent to tell us that it had. Anyway we bought some creme de peche as a substitute and had some with sparkling Pinot Grigio last night, and I can hardly believe that gingerbread syrup could be as good (although I am still furious that we pay for the kind of service that we so frequently get).

Another bete noire of mine is the Royal Mail. I know they are incredibly busy at this time of year but why can't they plan ahead and employ temps? Students on holiday from university need something to pay their drinks bills, after all, although I appreciate that the early mornings might cramp their style. It isn't just the erratic service (some parcels arrive spookily quickly, others outrageously slowly) but also the bizarre behaviour of my postman that makes me turn into Victor Meldrew. Just now, I was talking on-line to my brother (who is at work, poor soul), sat at the computer in my pyjamas, and the doorbell rang. I ran downstairs as fast as I can at 8 am and opened the door, by which time the postman had fled. Again. He saw me and came back with an air of resigned grumpiness. I am convinced that he knocks and runs, in the manner of a small child playing a trick; he seems to move with lightning speed. In any case, he delivered a lovely box from the US, which is exciting - and which arrived pretty fast, having been posted on 12th December. 10 days seems really fast from the States, as opposed to 10 days for a package I just received from another part of England. I will stop ranting, though, because I am on holiday and therefore not allowed to complain.

Spinach and goat's cheese risotto.... I made the usual risotto base and then wilted the spinach in melted butter, garlic and nutmeg, before chopping it very finely and stirring it into the risotto with Parmesan, butter and a squeeze of lemon. I rested the risotto with a lid on briefly, folded in some goat's cheese, sprinkled with lemon zest and more crumbled goats cheese and drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, and served.


In the book, this risotto is entirely green, rather than lightly shaded and flecked, like mine. I have no idea where I went wrong, but the flecked effect is quite pretty anyway, and it certainly didn't hurt the flavour. I love goat's cheese, but I am aware that it is not a taste universally shared (like fennel...); for people who do like goat's cheese, this is a tasty risotto which is incredibly easy to eat, even for a person with toothache.

Spicy pangrattato risotto

Yesterday was an exceedingly long and tiring day for me - I travelled to Liverpool for a work trip, and back, in one day. The train journey varies between three and a half and nearly four hours, plus travel to and from the station here and car ride at the other end. I had to get up insanely early and worrying about the alarm not going off kept me awake most of Tuesday night, which was a predictable start to the day. The journey there and back in itself was quite pleasant, if that isn't an odd thing to say about a train ride; the trains were busy but only the last leg between York and Newcastle was noisy, thanks to drunk Scottish men (who always seem to be on trains with me...). Otherwise, it was relatively quiet and I managed to read two admittedly slim but thoroughly depressing recent French novels - as well as having a Nigella gingerbread muffin for breakfast, which was a self-awarded treat. The whole day went well, but it felt long, and I was exhausted when I staggered into the house. I had known I would be and in a Blue Peter moment, I had managed to make risotto base on Tuesday evening and refrigerate it to finish off quickly on Wednesday night. I am very proud of that Blue Peter moment because it is uncharacteristic, but I was determined not to end up with rehashed student food. I wanted gently warming comfort food to eat out of a bowl, and risotto, now it has become a fast food thanks to Jamie's cunning system of pre-cooking the base, is perfect.

I say perfect. Sadly, and predictably given how tired I was, I managed to burn the pangrattato - the spicy breadcrumbs to go on top of the risotto. Basically, I had to whiz lemon zest, dried red chillies, garlic, anchovies and bread pieces in a food processor with some oil from the anchovies and then fry in a little oil until darkened and crisp. Sounds easy - is easy - but I was too tired to concentrate and also I was a little hasty in assuming that my blitzing had finished, so my breadcrumbs weren't very uniform, which also contributed to the overall effect: some crumbs darkened, some burnt, some not very dark. I sampled it and decided it was fine - the un-darkened crumbs had gone crispy and the burnt ones tasted okay, so I went for it, finishing off the risotto and sprinkling the crumbs over.


This was really nice. It would have been better if I hadn't messed up the pangrattato, but I am sure I did so mainly because I was so tired. I was also in a hurry because I wanted to see Nigella's Christmas Kitchen, which I really enjoyed. I know Nigella is incredibly kitsch at Christmas and does a lot of pouting into the camera, but that programme yesterday conveyed Christmas festive cheer amazingly well. Watching it, I felt Christmas had come already - and certainly I'd love to have Nigella feed me at Christmas. My main preparation so far has been to order the turkey - a Bronze - from a local farm shop, plus a couple of ribs of beef to roast. I know my turkey is still enjoying a happy life - although it might not be looking forward to Christmas as much as I am. I am also looking forward to Nigella's 'Christmas in a glass' (gingerbread syrup and prosecco...) and some festive ham, and a Yule log which I think I want to make this year. But if anyone fancies writing some Christmas cards for me, I will be very grateful.

Leftover stew risotto

I must confess that leftover stew risotto isn't a very appealing title for a recipe - you wouldn't invite people over and offer them leftover stew risotto. Which is a shame, because, I discovered yesterday, leftover stew risotto is a fabulous weeknight dinner. You may remember that on Tuesday, home alone, I made enough risotto base for three meals, using a third, roughly, to turn into mushroom risotto. Last night, we went for a couple of after work drinks with some friends, and even after two glasses of decidedly ropey pub Pinot Grigio, I managed to feign Domestic Goddess status by whipping up the insanely easy stew risotto.

I used leftover meat from Sunday's beef stew (which we've also had for lunch - this stew goes a long way... which can only be a good thing). I heated that up in a pan, added stock and the risotto base, and stirred until the liquid was absorbed, before adding more stock ladleful by ladleful. Finally I turned off the heat on the hob, added butter and Parmesan to the risotto, and let it sit for a minute, before adding thyme and a drizzle of olive oil.



Risotto isn't all that photogenic, I have decided; looking at it, you need to imagine how lovely risotto with its usual wine and Parmesan and onions and celery, plus leftover melt-in-your-mouth meat, really is. I really liked this risotto and you don't need much leftover meat to make it, which is another bonus. Usually I eat leftover stew as... leftover stew! Converting it into a risotto makes it taste like a completely different dinner, a dinner which I could whip up after the two dodgy glasses of wine and some curry and coriander flavour crisps (hello - who invented curry and coriander crisps? don't they sound revolting? scarily, though, they were pretty good...). I wasn't sure how this recipe would work out, but I will certainly be trying it again; it has got to be the best way of eating leftover beef stew ever.

Mushroom risotto

Mushrooms definitely rank quite highly on my personal vegetable hit parade (which is in a state of constant flux because even when I was picky, I always liked vegetables, and my tastes tend to vary according to the season). This caveat notwithstanding, I have always liked mushrooms a lot, even those rubbery button ones, but particularly the more exciting varieties. Unfortunately Simon, who isn't picky except when it comes to mushrooms and some forms of seafood, doesn't share my penchant for funghi - he will eat mushrooms in other dishes as long as they aren't the star ingredient, but mushroom pasta or mushroom risotto would definitely be off the cards. I knew, then, that I would have to make mushroom risotto on a night when I was home alone, which happened yesterday.

This project has changed how I see risotto. I used until recently to forget about risotto because it seemed like too much effort. Now I see that the labour it requires is effortless: you stir repeatedly, so you can't possibly be required to do anything else, which means that your mind is free to wander. I have discovered that cooking offers a privileged space and time for day-dreaming, and risotto is a perfect example of this. Yesterday I made enough of Jamie's cunning risotto base recipe for three, chilled it in the porch (well away of any potential passing feet, this time) and then extracted a third, which became the basis for Jamie's mushroom risotto recipe.

Mushroom risotto is one of the classic risottos; it needs little preamble from Jamie, let alone from me. Jamie does suggest finding the best mix of mushrooms possible - in my case, I doubt the best I could find was good enough. My search covered the huge local Tesco, M and S, a deli in town and the farm shop, and the best I could find was a mix of oyster and chestnut mushrooms, boosted by dried porcini (hurrah for dried porcini!). My mushrooms were hardly the fresh chanterelles and porcini that Jamie hints at, and thus my risotto could only ever be good, never great. I won't go through the recipe because everyone knows how to make mushroom risotto; added to the mushrooms and basic risotto base here were chopped garlic, thyme, and lemon juice, which all cut through the creaminess of the risotto and gave it added flavour.

The risotto was nice. It wasn't as good as it could have been, had I had a more interesting range of mushrooms, but it was nice. Risotto is a good meal to eat on your own because it is hardly any effort to eat it; it is like baby food, because it comes in a deep bowl and oozes into your mouth. Next time, I am going to scavenge for more exciting mushrooms - but I think I've missed my seasonal window.

Squash, sage and amaretti risotto

I love butternut squash. To me, it is up there with aubergine and asparagus; it is obviously much less sexy than either of those, but it has a gentle warmth that makes it a delight to cook with - not to mention its beautiful colour and smooth flesh. I decided to make this risotto because I had mascarpone that needed using up and because I wanted an excuse to eat squash; it had rained all day and risotto seems perfect for a dark, wet November evening.

Making the risotto was easy - I don't know why I had it in my head before embarking on this project that there was anything tiresome about making it. Stirring is quite therapeutic; it gives you time to think, while you watch the grains of rice plump up and soften. While I made the standard base risotto recipe, I pounded cinnamon and dried chilli with salt and rubbed two quarters of a butternut squash (unpeeled) with olive oil, before smearing over the cinnamon and chilli mix, and roasting for 45 minutes at 200C.

Once the base risotto was made, I tried Jamie's cunning trick of spreading it over an oiled baking tray and putting it in the porch to cool down (that was nearly a disaster as I put it on the floor, assuming noone would go out there, but Simon did go out there when a pushy Talk Talk salesman rang the bell; luckily he didn't step in my risotto). Meanwhile I had some me-time - not that long, but enough time to make a difference. When I was hungry, I returned the risotto to a pan with half the remaining stock required and the squash flesh, brought it to the boil, and simmered, adding more stock gradually in the usual risotto-making way. When the rice was cooked, I turned off the heat, beat in mascarpone, butter and Parmesan, seasoned slightly, and put the lid on the pan for a minute or two while I fried sage leaves in olive oil until crispy.

The risotto was served topped with the sage leaves; I put Parmesan and crushed amaretti biscuits on the table for each of us to add as we wished.

The photo, above, doesn't do it justice; this was delicious. The amaretti biscuits added a lovely sweetish contrast; too many of those would have ruined the dish, though. Jamie suggests adding roasted chestnuts or pancetta near Christmas, which seems to me like a good excuse to make this again. Simon had read the recipe and asked if we were having the version with a twist; I said no, and clocked his disappointment. He didn't seem disappointed when he ate it though! I have to say that risotto, the meal I never remembered to make, is definitely going to become a weeknight regular in this house. I will have to take tips from Ilana's 'I love risotto' blog... There are 6 remaining risotto recipes in Cook with Jamie - I look forward to more risotto!

Apple and walnut risotto with gorgonzola

I don't really make risotto. I can't remember the last time I did, although for some reason my first attempt is etched into my memory. I was a student finishing my thesis and two friends came round and I decided to make Nigella's mushroom risotto intended for small children from How to Eat, multiplying quantities to satisfy adult appetites. Before dinner, though, as students do, we started drinking, and carried on, and ate a whole big bag of Kettle Chips, and finally I stumbled to the stove and began making risotto. I had drunk enough to find following Nigella's small print something of a challenge, but I grasped that I had to gradually ladle in the stock; I didn't have a ladle, only a spoon, and didn't know how much to tip in at once, so I sort of trickled liquid into the pan at intervals and stirred madly. Eventually we ate it. I don't remember whether it was good or not; all I can remember is feeling stuffed before we even started from all the wine and Kettle crisps. I have made risotto since then, but rarely; it isn't that I don't like it - I just forget it exists. Anyway. Tonight I decided to start on Jamie's risotto chapter.

Jamie's book has a novel approach to risotto: he gives a basic recipe, the usual recipe, that you part-cook and then spread over an oiled baking tray to cool rapidly. You can then come back to it later. Which is what I intended to do, only I got hungry, so just moved onto stage 2, where you finish cooking the rice and add the flavourings (here: Parmesan, chopped apple, gorgonzola, goats cheese, marjoram); season, and leave for a minute for the cheese to melt into the dish. Meanwhile, toast the walnuts to scatter over the risotto once it is served.

Jamie says this is like a Waldorf salad. I wouldn't know - I associate Waldorf salads with a particularly silly episode of Fawlty Towers. What I do know is that the sweet apple, the crunchy walnut and the assertive gorgonzola really work together, textures and flavours contrasting with each other in a way that makes this strangely addictive. I had always associated risotto with effort - now I see that it does take time, but is hardly a chore. In fact, it was quite therapeutic to stand and stir. And the result definitely outweighed the effort.

Coming soon - honeycomb cannelloni! I didn't have a suitable pan and my lovely husband bought me one today as a surprise gift. What a star. Although tomorrow I am back to fish, and Friday we are out...