Watching and Waiting: Risotto Lessons

Many years ago I made risotto alla Giuglia (risotto with onion sliced thin and zucchini and yellow bell pepper cut in Julienne strips.) for the first time. I was young and still getting used to using a big knife, and Julienne strips took considerably more time than simply chopping, or even dicing something.

And at that time I had no access to Arborio rice, so I used long grain rice, the only kind I could get.

With the chopping and time it took for that hard rice to soak up all that broth and cream (and a teaspoon of pepper), making that recipe took an hour or more. I worked hard to get the onion slices as thin as possible. And then holding the zucchini chunks upright and carefully slicing those thin strips took a good while. And then standing and stirring, standing and stirring, standing and stirring as I gradually added the broth-cream mixture.

It doesn't take me as long now with my current knife prowess and the way Arborio rice soaks in the liquid more quickly. But I'll always think of that recipe when I think of how it often just takes time to have anything really good. And you have to pay attention. As my cookbook says, the "judicious" adding of the liquid and stirring is they key to a good risotto. Not too much too fast, but you can't let it dry out, either. Watching and waiting and paying attention.

So tonight as I did that, I also thought about Advent. And now it's late, and I'm just going to leave it there and let the readers draw their own meaning from this little reflection....