One of our favorite soups during the Christmas season or anytime during winter is Roasted Butternut Squash Soup. Although you can make this simply by cutting up the squash into cubes, additional depth of flavor is gained by roasting halved Butternut squash in the oven before adding to the soup. This can also be made using smaller Acorn squash which has a similar level of sweetness.

Ingredients
2 butternut squash, halved with seeds scooped out and discarded.
3-4 large carrots, diced (they add texture and sweetness).
1 large sweet onion, diced (Vidalia is best)
1 tablespoon sugar
3 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon sea salt
40 cracks of freshly ground pepper (or 1 teaspoon)
1 tablespoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon allspice
32 ounces chicken broth
Plus, additional water or cream as needed to adjust creaminess

For the Garnish
2 cups fresh cranberries (You can also use canned, whole cranberries as your garnish)
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 pint of heavy cream (for whipping)

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 400 F.
2. With a heavy chef's knife, cut the squash in half holding them vertically and firmly. Be careful--it's a tough squash to cut through. Next, using a large spoon, scoop out all the seeds and discard.
3. Place the halved squash cut side up on a heavy baking sheet and coat with olive oil, then season with sea salt and pepper. Roast in the oven for 30 minutes or until the squash becomes very soft and a bit browned.
4. While the squash is roasting, dice your onion and carrots.
5. Next, saute the diced onion in a large sauce pan drizzled with about 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Sprinkle the onions with the sugar (this helps bring out their sweetness). Saute until the onions are translucent, then add the carrots and cook, stirring occasionally until the carrots are beginning to get tender. You can remove from the heat when they are ready until the squash are finished roasting.
6. When the squash are done, remove from oven and scoop out the flesh, then add to your onions and carrots.
7. Add the chicken broth, salt, cracked pepper, thyme, nutmeg and stir well. Simmer on low heat for 30-45 minutes or until the carrots are very tender.
8. Use an immersion blender (THIS is the one I use) to blend the soup to your preferred level of texture. Some people like this soup thick, some leave a bit of rustic texture while others might add a bit of water or cream to make a smoother soup. Personally, we tend to like it a bit thick. At this point, taste your soup and adjust the seasoning, adding more salt or pepper if needed.
9. GARNISH: Place about 2 cups fresh cranberries in a small saucepan along with the allspice and lemon juice and cook, stirring occasionally until thickened and bubbling. You can prepare this ahead of time and store in the refrigerator. 
   
10. Whip some cold heavy cream to soft peaks.
11. To serve, place a spoonful of cranberries in the center of your bowl of soup, then  add a dollop or two of fresh whipped cream.

Serve with some crusty, heated bread and a glass of Prosecco.

Buon appetito!

--Jerry Finzi

My all-time favorite tomato is Eva Purple Ball--a pink-purplish, 2-3" round globe heirloom tomato that I've been growing for almost 20 years. ("Sweet like sugar", as my Dad always said about his home grown tomatoes). Eva is impeccably disease resistant, with a smooth, flawless skin and produces well.  Next in line is Giant Belgium--a large, pink beefsteak tomato. Like Eva, it has a rich, sweet flavor, but large enough for one slice to cover a small dessert plate (great for caprese). 

But last year I found a fat, orange striped tomato in a local farmers' market that I fell in love with. I saved seeds from one of the biggest ones and planted two plants this season. Well, I'm in love again!

This tomato is a large, plum style that grows about 3-5-1/5" long, with a pointy end (often with a very pointy nipple). Some grew so fat that I could not wrap my hand around them. It's very fleshy with low acidity--perfect for making sauce. But it's very sweet! I've gotten into slicing ovals on the bias for my panini and American style hoagie sandwiches. I've made sauces twice for pasta, and even used them sliced as a pizza topping (like I'm doing again tonight).

The only problem is, the chipmunks in my garden love them almost as much as I do.But even with those few losses, I'd estimate that the two plants produced about 20 pounds of these so far, and there's still a few on the plants coming ripe.

I did several Google image searches until I verified the type--Striped Roma. I've already saved seeds for next season... You can find some seeds HERE.

God, I love tomatoes. Home-grown, that is.

--Jerry Finzi

San Marzano tomatoes are the holy grail when it comes to sauce tomatoes. They often cost twice the price of other canned tomatoes, which is the reason why there are many counterfeit, bogus tomatoes in cans labeled San Marzano, or "San Marzano style". Experts say that up to 95% of the tomatoes labeled "San Marzano" are tomatoes grown in other regions of Italy or other countries.  The Italian Mafia and other unscrupulous organizations will place lesser quality tomatoes into cans and label them as San Marzano, when in reality they are a mixture of less sweet, less meaty tomatoes.

In was in 2011 that the president of Consorzio San Marzano (Consortium for the Protection of the San Marzano Tomato Dell'agro Sarnese Nocerino) said that only five percent of tomatoes marked as such are certified, D.O.P. San Marzano tomatoes.  San Marzano tomatoes are elongated plum tomatoes that by decree, must be grown in Agro Sarnese-Nocerino, an area surrounding Mount Vesuvious near Naples. When they are canned, they come with a D.O.P.-Denominazione d' Origine Protetta (literally “Protected Designation of Origin”) emblem on the label, marking their authenticity. This is the same type of certification that ensures the authenticity of other Italian products, such as Parmigiano Reggiano, Prosciutto di Parma or Balsamic di Molena.

To ensure you are getting San Marzano tomatoes, make sure that the can has one of the following on it: "Certified San Marzano", the DOP emblem, or the words "San Marzano dell'Agro Sarnese-Nocerino". The ingredients should list "whole (or peeled) San Marzano tomatoes". Some producers also include a statement something like, "San Marzano tomatoes (DOP-protected designation of Origin) are only cultivated in 41 approved municipalities, from San Marzano seeds, within the Sarno River valley surrounding Naples (or 'near the slopes of Mount Vesuvious'), in the Campania region." If the label says, "Grown in the USA", steer clear.

Compared to the Roma tomato, San Marzano tomatoes are thinner, a bit longer and pointed at their ends. The thicker, meatier flesh has fewer seeds and is fantastic for making sauce. The taste is also stronger, sweeter and less acidic. (I've had pizza from one local chic, wood oven pizzeria who claimed the tomatoes in their sauce were San Marzano, but the amazingly high acidic level burned my lips. I called BS.)

As many know, the tomato itself was imported to Europe after being discovered in the New World. Its first culinary appearance was in a 1692 cookbook as a base for a sauce. The San Marzano itself doesn't show up until much later, in a tomato manual published in 1940, the San Marzano is listed as a "recent cross" between the Re Umberto and Fiaschetto varieties.

Cedri are primarily found in Italy, from the Italian Riviera down to the Amalfi Coast, though they are occasionally spotted in France, Isreal and even exported to Britain. There are three different citron types: acidic, non-acidic and pulpless. Of the different cultivars, the acidic Diamante is more common in Italy.

Cedro citrons are usually up to three to four times the length of common lemons and can measure between 10 and 15 inches in diameter. They can weight up to 3-4 pounds each.

The pebbly surface ripens from green to a bright yellow--both colors can be harvested, the peak season being fall and winter. Most--about 70%--of the lemon is white pith from 2-5 inches thick with a soft texture and almost sweet lemony fragrance.  In its center is a small amount of segmented pulp with a few pale seeds. This lemon is fairly dry and not used for its juice and the taste is milder than a common lemon.

The pith can be eaten raw or cooked: in salads, atop bruschetta, in jams and preserves, in risotto or pickled. The rind of this citron is very aromatic and a bit sweet, and is used to produce "citron", or candied lemon (used in Italian celebration breads and cakes, like panettone). Some claim it can be a remedy for hangovers, coughs and indigestion. Since the Renaissance, the oils from the skin have also been used in perfumery and cosmetics due to their delicate and fragrant scent.

If cooking while in Italy (or if you can get some cedri at home), try these recipes:

(A great holiday snack)
1 - 2 pound cedro
1 cup sugar
1 pint water
3-5 ounces bitter sweet chocolate

1. Cut the cedro in half, cut away and discard the fruit's center, leaving 1/2 thick of the outer skin and a bit of the pith.
2. Cut into 1/2 inch strips about 2-3" long and place into a saucepan. Cover with cold water, then bring to a boil over a moderate heat and simmer for approximately 10 minutes.
3. Drain the cedro strips and repeat this process twice – blanching the strips three times in total.
4. Cover the cedro in the saucepan with the sugar and the water, place over a low heat and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Cook slowly for about 30 minutes until they become translucent.
5. Turn off the heat and allow to cool in the syrup. Next, drain and then discard the syrup and lay out the strips on a baking tray lined with parchment paper. Allow your cooled cedro strips to dry overnight. Do not cover.
   
6. The following day, place the chocolate into a double boiler with 1/2 water in the lower pan. Heat slowly over a medium heat, allowing the chocolate to melt very slowly. This is called tempering the chocolate, to guarantee its glossiness.
7. When melted, remove from the heat and dip half the candied cedro into the chocolate,laying the strips on parchment paper or a Silpat sheet to dry.

You can store these in an airtight container and serve at the end of a meal with fruit, nuts, biscotti and espresso.

© GVI 2018

You might also be interest in:
When Life Gives Them Lemons, Italians Make Limoncello
Amalfi Lemon and Chicken Pasta
Lemon and Turkey Pasta with Prosecco

Broccoli rabe (räp’ - eh) is actually a member of the turnip family (rabe in Italian means turnip). The stalks, leaves, florets or yellow flowers are all edible. The leaves and stalks are usually cooked to soften their toughness and the flavor can be described as nutty, bitter, peppery or spicy and reminiscent of mustard greens. Broccoli Rabe can also be called broccoli raab, broccoli rape, or rapini, although, botanically speaking, rapini is a different plant entirely.

Rapini and broccoli rabe are close cousins and their names are often used interchangeably. They are in the same subspecies as the turnip, hence they have the characteristically slightly bitter taste of this group. Neither Rapini or broccoli rabe form the large floret heads that are seen in broccoli. “Rape” is the Italian name for turnip.

Broccoli Rabe is not broccolini. Broccolini is a hybrid created in 1993--a cross between broccoli and Chinese broccoli. It has small florets, long stalks, and a few small leaves, where Broccoli rabe has large leaves. Broccolini stalks look like asparagus.

History
Native to the eastern Mediterranean and Asia and one of the earliest cultivated crops, broccoli rabe (Brassica rapa) was first eaten for its roots and leaves. It can also be allowed to flower and go to seed, with seeds collected and crushed for their high oil content (40 percent), commonly known as rapeseed oil, or in today's cooking as canola oil.  The oil, in its simplest form can be  used as lamp oil and a lubricant, in the same way olive oil has been used throughout history. Brassica rapa may have been used as oil in Italy as early as the 13th century and was the major lamp oil in Europe by the 16th century. Botanically speaking, Brassica campestris, Brassica rapa and Brassica napus are identical.

In Italy, there can be different names for it: in Naples it is known as friarielli; in Rome broccoletti; in Puglia, cime di rapa (literally meaning "turnip tops"). It is also known as i broccoli friarelli and sometimes broccoli di rape, rapi, or rapini (little turnips).

How to Use Broccoli Rabe

How to use broccoli rabe in Italy depends on the region... in northern Italy, they will throw away the florets and use only the leaves, while in southern Italy, they will throw away the leaves and each only the florets. It is a cool season crop, so you will find it locally--and fresh--during late fall, through the winter and into early spring. In U.S. supermarkets, you can usually find it year-round, grown in other countries and flown in.

Broccoli rabe contains tons of nutrients: 3-1/2  ounces provides half your daily requirement of vitamins A and C. It’s also a good source of folate, potassium, fiber, and calcium. It's also high in antioxidants, protecting you from cancer, inflammation and coronary disease.

Make sure you are buying fresh broccoli rabe. Look at the base of the stalks for a cream color (not dark). They should be crisp, not floppy.  The leaves should not be floppy or dried out and the buds should be bright green. If they are yellowed, pass them by.

It's natural bitterness is lessened with cooking and pairs well with strong flavors like pork sausages or starchy things, like pasta, rice and potatoes. If you like it milder, just cook a bit longer, or after blanching in very salty water (the way you cook pasta), remove from the water, drain and then saute in olive oil. (In Puglia, they tend to omit the blanching in water).  As for the stalks, if they are large, peel them first before cooking, they same way you would peel asparagus. If you are using the florets, throw them into the pan after stems or leaves... they are tender and cook fast.  If you are growing your own and your plants have started to bolt and produce yellow flowers, it's not a total waste (see below about plants "bolting"), just snip the edible flowers to toss into soups or salads or to top off your plating. 

How to Grow Broccoli Rabe from Heirloom Seeds
The only difficulty is that the seeds are very tiny. You can sow them directly in the garden, but then thin the seedlings as soon as possible to 4 - 6 inches apart. You can use the seedlings right away by washing and tossing into your salads and soups.

When to grow broccoli rabe is up for debate. While it is considered a cool weather crop, like turnips, lettuces or radishes, many old Italians will tell you that they grow it all year long--even when the weather turns hot. You can plant seeds right after the last frost, but need to grow smaller and faster growing varieties... and remember to cut and harvest just as the florets are forming... not after.

Interestingly, varieties might have numerical names that correspond to their growing cycle, such as Quarantina (40 days), Sessantina (60 days) or Novantina (90 days), but regardless of the name, you need to pay attention to the plants and harvest immediately as soon as you see the florets forming... and all varieties tend to form flowers earlier than the seed packets claim. Wait too long--a day or two--and your plants will bolt (stop growing leaves and put their energy into producing seed). If this happens, this bitter plant will instantly turn into that proverbial bitter pill.

Stalks will store in your refrigerator for about 10 days, so it's best to stagger the planting of your seed into batches a week or more apart to ensure a fresh supply during the growing season. 

One warning about growing broccoli rabe from seed... they tend to cross pollinate with other braccias like broccoli, turnips and even it's distant cousin, mustard. Don't plant braccias too close to each other.

If you want an authentic way to make the famous dish from Puglia, Cime di Rapa, check out this video with Gennaro Contaldo, from the Two Greedy Italians cooking show from BBC...  Favoloso!

In the very first market we visited in Italy, we came upon a strange looking, rugged celery-looking vegetable: Cardi (Cardoon in English, in Italian it's Cardo, Cardone or Carduna). But Cardi is not celery and it is used in a very different ways. In talking to other Foodies in the States, I have found that many confuse Cardoon with Swiss Chard, or worse, with Rhubarb (which, because of its sweetness is used more like a fruit, as in pies). I thought I would explain the differences between this confusing batch of stalk veggies...

Cardoon is a member of the thistle family and a close cousin of artichoke, but unlike the artichoke, the stalks and not the flowers are eaten. In fact, it tastes like artichoke. If you like artichokes, you should enjoy Cardi. Cardoon grows in the field as a fairly dangerous, spiny plant, just like thistle. Unlike celery,  its ribs are fibrous (and much more stringy) and need to be removed using a vegetable peeler. Along the sides of each stalk are fairly sharp barbs which also need to be peeled. Eaten raw, the stalks are nearly inedible--amazingly bitter, fibrous and tough. In general, there is no such thing as overcooking Cardi if you want to get them tender enough to eat--while getting rid of their dental-floss stringiness.

In Italy, the average supermarket variety of Cardi on sale looks like a rough textured, perhaps dirty celery, with the tops trimmed off and bound by a twist tie, but in open air produce markets, you might find more choices. Often you will see a very tall (3-4'), straight variety with its thistle looking leaves intact. There is also another called Gobbi, a curved, hunchbacked type.

Blanched Cardi are grown in darkness to produced a very pale color, in the same way white asparagus or white endives are grown by covering the maturing stalks. These are the more expensive and prized for culinary use because their taste is less bitter and they tend to cook faster. Their taste when well-cooked, as I mentioned earlier, is like artichoke, but with a smokey edge and hint of licorice, as with finocchio (bulbing fennel). If you ever decide to grow Cardoon in your garden, always remove the beautiful blue flower heads (they look like thistle flowers) to prevent the plant from dropping seeds or your garden will have hundreds of weedlings coming up next season.

You can sauté Swiss Chard leaves and stems in a small amount of extra-virgin olive oil and season with freshly ground black pepper, minced garlic, and freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Eat as a side dish or as a baked potato topping. You can also cook the stems by first cutting in a small dice to soften them and adding to salsa, relish or chutney.

The main difference between Rhubarb and the other "stalk" veggies discussed here is that it does not grow in a head. The stalks grows from a woody rhizome individually and are harvested by cutting each close to the ground. Of course, the obvious difference is that, although a vegetable, Rhubarb is used in the same way we use sour cherries in pies. They are highly acidic and blend well with other sweet ingredients.

Ingredients:

• 1 bunch cardi
• flour for coating
• salt
• pepper
• oil – (olive oil is my preference)

Directions

• Clean and rinse the cardi: remove all the leaves, then using a vegetable peeler, remove bristles on the sides of the stalks, then peel the strings off the back of the stalks. 
• Cut stalks into 2 – 3 inch pieces.
• Cook cardi in covered pan with well-salted water until tender (10 – 15 minutes).  
• Drain cardi and let cool – enough to handle.
• Combine flour, salt and pepper into a large plastic or paper bag.  Place a few pieces of cardi in bag, shake to coat. 
• Place floured pieces in skillet with olive oil.  Let cook until golden brown on all sides. Drain on paper towels. Repeat with remaining cardi. 

--Jerry Finzi

We've been making authentic French Onion Soup for many years, mostly using Julia Child's techniques and ingredients. The last few years, I discovered that I preferred using a sharp Provolone cheese in place of the usual Gruyere, putting a slight Italian touch on the dish. But this year, I though I'd see just how Italian I could go, making our
Zuppa di Cipolle Italiano.

So first, instead of any type of onion, I thought I'd use my favorite sweet onion... Vidalia. It sounds Italian, doesn't it? I know, I know, the name isn't Italian--they are named after a town in Georgia, but they are very sweet. I thought I'd also swap out the Vermouth for Italian sweet Marsala wine. The two have very similar flavor profiles. I usually use a Cognac like in the original Child recipe, but this time I'd use Grappa. Pepperoncino (red pepper flakes) would add a bit of heat in the soup itself, and for the cheese, I would use creamy Italian Fontina... a sprinkle of Oregano to top it off.

I always hated the way most restaurants put one large, crusty-edged, crock-filling slab of bread on top of the soup, and then melt the cheese on top of that. First, it's nearly impossible--using a spoon--to cut a small piece of bread from the crusty, toasted slab. Secondly, the cheese  often melted into a solid mat on top of the bread, often coming up in a thick sheet when you're trying to get just a small amount on your spoon. I've eaten French Onion Soup (they just call it "Onion Soup") in France where the cheese was grated and melted down into the soup, forming creamy strands of cheese that mixed with every spoonful. For the bread, I wouldn't use French baguettes slabs, but cubes of ciabatta. In this way, each and every spoonful gets some soup and a piece of bread, with the added bonus of the cheese melting down into the soup and becoming part of it. If you gently push the bread cubes down into the soup before putting the shredded Fontina on top, you'll get a texture similar to some of the bread soups alla povera (peasant style) I've had in Italy.

The other thing I changed was the texture and cut of the onions themselves. I've had some versions where the onions were cut so thick and in such long strands that they attempt to choke you as you swallow--especially if they weren't property caramelized. So, my method is taking half of the onions and cutting them into a dice, with the second half cut in quarter-circles, so the strands are much shorter. In this way, you still have a decent texture, but with the diced onions permeating every part of the soup.

Ingredients
8 cups onions (about 3 pounds), half diced/half quarter-julienne
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar (to help with caramelizing the onions)
1 teaspoon pepperoncino (red pepper flakes)
2 tablespoons flour
64 ounces (8 cups) beef stock (2 cups should be hot)
4 tablespoons Cognac, Brandy or Grappa
1-1/2 cups sweet Marsala wine (the real wine, NOT a "cooking Marsala")
1 leftover rind of Parmigiano Reggiano (or cut the rind from a new wedge)
Salt and fresh ground black pepper at the end to adjust the finished flavor
1 loaf of Ciabatta bread, cubed as need
Fontina (we used Bel Gioioso brand, or Fontina Val d'Aosta if you can find some)
Oregano for dusting the finished soup

When the soup is finished, taste it and adjust for salt and ground black pepper. I added only about 1 teaspoon of sea salt to mine, but it depends on if the stock was salty or not. Trust your palette. In the end, I think I added about 20 cracks of black pepper.

Ready to Serve

1. First, cut the ciabatta into 1" cubes. You need 1/2 to 1 cup of cubes per traditional onion soup crock sized bowl.  If you want to press your cubes down into the soup, but still want the have a mounding of bread on top, then use more per bowl.
2. Using the 1/4 inch holes of a box grater, grate the Fontina cheese.
3. Using French Onion style soup bowls or crocks, place about 1 -1/2 cups of onion soup into each (it depends on the size of your bowls... fill to about 3/4" below the rims). Pile your bread cubes on top, mounding them above the rim of the bowl. If you want to have a thick, rustic, bready soup, gently push the bread cubes down into the soup without overflowing the bowl. If needed, mound some more cubes on top.
4. Place the shredded Fontina on top of the bread cubes. You want the bread and cheese to look "heaping", higher than the top of the bowls.
5. Turn on the broiler of your oven.
6. Place all the soup bowls into a sturdy sheet pan, and then into the oven. Do NOT walk away. Broil the cheese until it melts down in between the cubes, starts to bubble, and until you see a bit of browning here and there.
7. Carefully remove the pan and soup bowls from the oven using oven mitts. Transfer the hot bowls onto small serving plates. Top each bowl with a sprinkling of dried (or fresh) oregano.

There you have it. The taste is luscious, rustic, hearty, sweet and definitely more Italiano than French.

I hope you enjoy my Zuppa di Cipolle Italiano...

Let me know how yours turned out...

Boun Appetito!


--Jerry Finzi

My son, Lucas loves the animated film Ratatouille, and so do Lisa and I. It's a wonderful jaunt through a vintage Parisian kitchen through the eyes of "Little Chef", a rodent who loves to cook. After seeing the film, Lucas wanted to make ratatouille, so we set out to do a rustic, delicious version and have made it many times since.

But ever since re-discovering our Italian roots during our Grand Voyage of Italy, we have been concentrating more on Italian recipes. Well, this time we though we'd combine the best of both worlds--French country cuisine with the height of Italian culinary skills--in the making of a great risotto. I think we succeeded with our Ratatouille & Risotto. It's perfect for autumn or winter--a stick to your ribs supper. But this dish has two distinct personalities... the obvious simplicity of making the ratatouille--basically a vegetarian peasant stew--and the technically demanding risotto.

For the Ratatouille

Ratatouille is a very basic vegetable stew made in Provence and around Nice in southern France. It uses several basic ingredients: eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, onion and pepper. There are many variations on the recipe, but the one I use is fairly rustic and traditional. 

Ingredients:
1 large Vidalia (sweet) onion - diced
1 bell pepper, diced
2 medium sized eggplant-skinned, cut into 3/4 -1" cubes,
(the larger the eggplant, the more seeds and more bitterness)
5-6 whole garlic cloves
3-4 young, slim zucchini - skin on, sliced once lengthwise, then into 3/4" half moon slices,
(smaller & younger are more sweet and less seedy)
1-16 ounce can of diced tomatoes (I use Del Monte, oregano & basil spiced, in summer use fresh heirloom paste tomatoes)
1 cup chicken (or vegetable) broth
1/4 cup port wine
1 tablespoon salt
2 tablespoons oregano
1 tablespoon rubbed sage
3 bay leaves (remove after cooking!)
40 cracks of fresh pepper (from a pepper mill, fine grind)
1/2 teaspoon hot pepper flakes
Olive oil for sauteing

• Saute the onions until clear in 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a medium hot sauce pot, then add the diced peppers and cook for 3-4 minutes on a medium-low flame. 
• Add the the eggplant and garlic cloves and saute for another few minutes.
• Then de-glaze the pan with the wine for a few minutes and then add the diced tomatoes and broth.
• Finally, add the zucchini and all the spices, stirring gently to incorporate the spices throughout the stew. 
• Cook for another 45 minutes to an hour of until all the veggies are tender. Turn off the flame and set aside while you prepare the risotto. (Please remove the bay leaves before serving!)

For the Risotto
We mainly use Arborio rice when we make risotto, but even better is if you can find Canaroli rice--it makes an even creamier risotto and is a bit more forgiving.  The trick with making risotto is patience. It can take the better part of an hour or more--constantly adding broth and stirring--until the starchy exterior of the rice breaks down enough to make a creamy risotto, while still keeping a pasta-like "tooth" in the cooked rice. You don't want any crunch, there shouldn't be any mushy rice, and the texture when finished should be loose, glistening and creamy. While there are some tricks for making risotto faster, but there's no substitute for a strong arm and standing at the stove top for up to an hour...

Ingredients:
2 cups arborio or carnaroli rice
2 tablespoons light olive oil
1 medium sweet onion (or half a large Vidalia)-diced finely
1 cup dry white wine (Frascati or Pinot Grigio, or one of your choice)
6 cups of chick or vegetable broth, heated in a saucepan (for ladling into the rice)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 stick unsalted butter
1-1/4 cups of finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (plus additional for topping off the dish)

• Start by heating the broth in a small saucepan until barely simmering. Maintain this level of heat all the way through the cooking of the rice.
• Using a 12-14" saute pan, heat the olive oil on medium heat, then add the diced onion. Cook until the onions are translucent.
• Add the rice, stirring to coat the rice. Cook for 1-2 minutes until the rice is well coated and the outer surface of the rice looks translucent. You can add the salt at this point.
• Next, turn the heat down to medium low and add the wine. Stir until the wine is absorbed by the rice.
• The following step will be repeated until the rice is tender with barely an al dente bite... Take a ladle of hot broth and stir it into the rice. Keep stirring (preferably with a flat wooden spoon) until it is absorbed. Repeat, constantly stirring the rice all the way through the cooking. In case you've run out of broth, you can quickly heat up some water and use that to finish off the risotto until you reach the right texture. 

Toward the end, you will notice the starch in the rice being released to make a creamy consistency. Occasionally, taste the rice to make sure it is cooked through while still having a little bit of "tooth". You do not want it mushy, but you don't want crunch on individual grains. You will also know when the rice is nearing completion when you experience a sort of "wave" when you stir the rice, making a circular motion with the flat edge of your spoon around the bottom of the pan. Italian chef's call this the all'onda (wavy) effect. When your spoons passes and the rice behind it slides back in a slow motion like a silky wave, the risotto is at the right texture.

• The last step is to add the butter and stir more vigorously (like a whipping motion) until it's melted and incorporated.
• Finally, add the cheese and mix thoroughly.

Some recipes say that this will take only 30-35 minutes, but I have found it takes me 45-65 minutes until the rice is cooked and getting creamy. Risotto should be served immediately when completed, so timing is key. But in the event you have to let your risotto sit for a bit, just leave covered, unheated... then before serving, revitalize it by heating it with a little bit more hot water on a medium low flame until the water is incorporated and it has reached the "wave" stage once again.

To service, place a portion of the risotto on your plates and add some ratatouille on top, toward one side (let the creamy risotto show itself off too). You decide to have a hearty Italian Chianti or a nice French Bordeaux with the dish... after all, it does have a split-personality. 

I'd also like to add that the risotto recipes used in this dish is a basic risotto recipe. Once you learn how to make this, you can experience with adding all sorts of other things into the risotto... mushrooms, saffron, peas, shrimp, etc. And the ratatouille recipe is great topping a pizza, with pasta or even as a filling for a stuffed baked potato!

Buon appetito!

--Jerry Finzi