Cooking Risotto for an Italian

Wave-Like Nerves

Have you ever watched an old Italian mob movie where the boss was about to be murdered? Yes, I felt as if I was the victim after cooking risotto for a true Italian chef. Al dente is the Italian word for “to the tooth”. Most Italians prefer eating their food like this, with a texture that is cooked, but still consisting of a certain rawness and bite to it. This idea showcases the quality and freshness of their food products. Cooking food within this range requires much skill and may take years for one to find the muscle memory to reach this form of perfection.

I was in Italy. The golden sun rays hit my pale skin. The ocean breeze blew from all angles and my feet remained anchored in what I call home. For some reason I felt like a king. Each year I stay in Italy for months at a time – with family – embracing their beautiful culture. This time, I was staying in Puglia, the southern region of Italy towards the heel of the boot on a school program abroad. For class, we cooked at Il Castello di Ugento – a magnificent castle under renovation that had state of the art kitchens just for our school. The chef there is world renowned and worked in all 20 regions of italy; a true Italian chef. Being at this professional level, she explained to the class how she made risotto to order working at one restaurant. There was an entire station dedicated to only making risotto, which takes 20 minutes to prepare from start to finish. I was surely impressed.

Waking up in Italy gives me a certain drive. A drive that had a kick like a rich espresso and the pride of a waving flag. My passion is Italian cuisine and I wanted to exhibit my skills within the kitchen. One class day, we were prepared to make all different variations of risotto. Entering the castle, I had my mental mise en place, knowing exactly what we had to do for the day. However, chef had another agenda. She asked if we make our own risotto per person for her and another chef to taste. I was nervous, though extremely excited to cook for an Italian chef – my first time.

Chef Odette presented a demo of how to make risotto. Peeking over the shoulders of the other students, I was intrigued to follow her every step. Shallots? I questioned. Her demo seemed to be a bit different from traditional. I remembered the ingredients to the classical route – olive oil, white onion, risotto rice, wine, stock, butter, parmigiano reggiano. Just like my cooking fundamentals class. I made great risotto back at school in America, where I learned the term all’onda. This means “like a wave” in Italian and refers to the motion the risotto moves in after the butter and parmigiano are added. My risotto at school was a huge success. Back in Italy, my mise en place was ready, but my nerves kept me anxious. Al dente, I kept thinking to myself. I was focused.

All of the students presented before me and I was left for last. I was prepared and had all of the ingredients in front of me. Not to mention, Chef Odette permitted me to use her stovetop station to cook my risotto and it happened to be right in front of where they were evaluating the food. The ingredients, beside me, were not even measured. Adding the ingredients was muscle memory for me and the rest was left to taste. The onions were fresh from the garden and the olive oil flows prosperously within the region of Puglia. Adding some to the small pot, I found the stovetop quite difficult to operate. It was induction heated with no flame. Finding a sweet spot, I tossed in the onions to cook until translucent. As I poured in some white wine, a cloud of steam billowed from the pot consisting of the aromas of the sweet minced onions. Adding the arborio rice, starchy aromas made my stomach growl. It was time to incorporate some chicken stock. Adding and stirring and repeating this method, I was hoping to reach all’onda. Nonetheless, it took almost 15 minutes for the rice to absorb the liquid. It was a waiting game.

Every step of the cooking process I tasted a grain at a time. I noticed the students were finishing up the daily assignment of making family-sized dishes of different risottos. The chefs who were the judges were impatiently waiting for my dish. I loved the rush, yet I needed to plate the food. Mixing in butter and parmigiano, the rice was moving like the waves of the nearby oceans. With a final taste of my risotto, I knew it was off.The rice was in the pot undercooked. As chef was peeking over to see what is inside the pot, I uttered, “Non buono.” It was not to my liking. I had a taste. There was bright acidity from the white wine and creamy umami from the butter and cheese. The texture was all’onda but the rice had unwanted texture. I would never intend to serve an Italian chef overcooked food. So, I nervously plated the much-awaited risotto and rushed it to the chefs. On the heel of Italy, at this moment, I felt as if I was going to get the boot.

The chefs knew I could speak Italian. They also noticed that I was using the classical ingredients for risotto. So, we all sat down to evaluate the final dish of rice. I shook my head and remained finicky. Chef Odette was impressed with the glossiness of the dish and the appearance. . . thanks to all’onda. Next, we all grabbed forks to dig in. Tasting it, I think the white wine could have evaporated a bit longer. I thought. I remembered Chef Odette saying, “I believe there could be more parmigiano.” I would agree to disagree. Finally, the American chef who was with Odette said, “I think the dish is great, but the rice is terribly undercooked.” I nodded with much understanding. I felt as if they expected more out of me, but I was nervous. Chef Odette – an inspiration and such a passionate chef – said to me, “You need to cook faster. I will push you, but you also need to push yourself.” I smiled with amazement. This comment made me forget about the flaws within my risotto. I was content.

Luckily, I was in the motherland and I was here to stay; to learn from the best and taste the freshest. Chef Odette saw something inside of me, which gave me fuel for my drive. The next class days, my senses reached a greater height. I felt like I could cook like never before. My ideas were strong and I became group leader. My mission was to teach the other students about the integrity of the local ingredients and help preserve the Italian culture. Chef Odette remains an inspiration for my drive. As fun as a ride on the back of a vespa, her loving passion can define Italian cuisine. Finally, I found the kitchen to be my home. I was here to stay.