(Inspired by “Morels,” p. 30, Cornfields to Codfish)

Rice, whether brown, jasmine, basmati, or Arborio, was not part of my diet growing up. Throughout the year, we ate primarily what we grew or raised. Mom didn’t have a rice paddy, but she did have a garden filled with rows and rows of potatoes. When dug up, those hearty spuds would last for months spread out on the cool floor in the basement. It wasn’t until well into my thirties that I discovered the soulful cooking of Arborio rice, named after the town where it was first grown near Milan, Italy.

Similarly, aside from morels in the spring, the only other mushrooms we had growing up were small cans of sliced, shrunken button mushrooms that Mom used on pizza. I had my first sautéed fresh button mushrooms when I was a student at Luther College in the mid-80s. While I do not recall the main dishes served in the on-campus restaurant, Peace Dining Room, those buttered mushrooms remain vivid. When I lived in Illinois, I slowly discovered other fresh mushrooms – shiitake, cremini, and portobello. Then when we moved to the East Coast, I found more exotic mushrooms in specialty grocery stores and public markets.

No matter the type of mushroom, simply slicing and frying them in butter, sprinkling them with a little salt and pepper, then serving them alongside a juicy steak is delicious. However, exotic mushrooms perform well in bigger productions, like Mushroom Risotto, which is a symphony of flavors.

My rule of thumb: With mushrooms that feel as sturdy as or sturdier than a button mushroom when I slice them, I sauté them, remove them from the pan, and add them back with the wine as the rice is starting to cook. For more delicate mushrooms, I sauté them briefly (separately from the sturdy ones) and add them back to the pan with the last ladle of broth that finishes off the risotto.

Ingredients

3 c. chicken stock (see Waste-Not-Want-Not Chicken Stock recipe, p. 246 – or use canned)

Large pinch of saffron

Olive oil

Stick of butter (may or may not need all of it)

2 pounds of mushrooms, brushed off with a paper towel and sliced or pulled apart into small pieces

½ c. chopped onions

1 c. uncooked Arborio rice

¾ c. medium or dry white wine

⅛ c. half-and-half or cream

¾ c. Parmesan cheese

In a medium-sized pan, combine chicken stock and saffron, heat to a simmer, keeping the lid on so the stock doesn’t evaporate. Saffron will dissolve in the chicken stock.

In a large pan over medium heat, add 3 T. of olive oil and 3 T. of butter; then sauté the mushrooms until they are shiny (refer to note above about sturdy vs. delicate mushrooms). Add more olive oil and butter if they seem too dry to cook down. When softened and slightly browned, transfer mushrooms to a bowl and set aside.

To the pan, still over medium heat, add 3 T. olive oil, 3 T. butter, and the chopped onions. Stir and cook until the onions sweat and start to become translucent. Do not brown. Add the sturdy mushrooms and the Arborio rice. Stir to coat the rice with the oil. When the rice sounds a bit like glass clicking on the side of the pan, add the wine. Stir frequently as the rice soaks up the wine.

When the wine has been absorbed, ladle in ½ c. of chicken stock and cook, stirring frequently until most of the liquid is absorbed. Adjust heat to keep the rice at a constant simmer; this may mean reducing heat to medium-low if it starts a rapid boil.

Add another ½ c. of chicken stock, again stirring frequently. Continue adding stock in this manner. When adding the last ½ c. of stock, gently add the more delicate mushrooms to the risotto.

Throughout this entire half-hour-ish process, keep a lid on the simmering chicken stock but no lid on the risotto.

When most of the moisture has been absorbed, the risotto will be creamy. Remove risotto from the heat and stir in the half-and-half/cream and the Parmesan cheese. To serve comfort style, dish up in soup bowls rather than on a plate, and eat with a spoon.