Make use of every inch of Parmesan or other grana-type cheeses with this most simple and lovely of risottos. Parmigiano reggiano, grana padano, lodigiano, trentingrana and other members of the grana cheese family are far from cheap, which is why it is important to use every last bit, including the rind with the last few millimetres of cheese still attached. That functions as a sort of highly flavoured and fatty stock cube that can be added to soups and stews. The best place to keep your precious rinds is in a plastic bag or airtight container in the freezer, which also preserves flavour and stops them drying out, until they are pulled out and added directly to whatever needs a boost, or to make one of the nicest, most delicately flavoured and cheesy broths, which in turn makes a lovely risotto.
Rachel Roddy has written about risotto many times, with each version a new favourite, and providing lessons in a dish that, regardless of how much she learns and practises, she is always chasing: the right proportions of rice to broth, as well as a pleasing consistency and texture. She knows she is not alone in this, and was reassured by a friend from Bergamo, in Lombardy, who told her that, despite having made thousands of risotti, he feels much the same, that every pan is an adventure and personal challenge, and that he would not have it any other way. This is his recipe, which he describes as the simplest of risotti and a layered celebration of grana cheese.
The advice collected from this version is mostly noisy: the rice should clatter around the pan when you first add it; the alcohol should whoosh as it hits the rice and evaporate significantly before you start adding the broth, which should also bubble noisily when it meets the hot pan. For the final step – that is, the beating of butter and cheese into the hot rice – a loose slapping sound is a good sign that the texture is nice and loose, and not dissimilar to a creamy porridge.
To make the risotto, put 3-4 Parmesan rinds (with 1cm cheese attached), one peeled and halved onion, one halved celery stick, one small halved carrot, and a pinch of salt in a large pan. Add two litres of water and bring almost to the boil. Turn down to a simmer and cook for an hour, adding a little more water if it reduces too much (at the end, you want a litre and a half of gently-flavoured broth). Taste, lift out the rinds (they will be soft and edible – a cook's treat) and veg (discard), then add more salt to the broth, if needed. Leave the broth in its pan at the back of the stove. Working in a high-sided saute pan over a medium-low heat, soften two finely diced shallots in half of 40g butter, then add 360g carnaroli or arborio rice, stirring so it clatters against the sides of the pan. Add half a glass of dry white wine or vermouth and leave it to bubble for a minute or two. Glance at the clock, bearing in mind that your risotto will take about 17-20 minutes from now, and start adding the broth ladle by ladle, making sure each one is absorbed by the rice before adding the next and stirring constantly; the rice will swell before your eyes. Once the rice is plump and cooked though, pull the pan off the heat, wait 30 seconds, then add the remaining butter and 60g grated Parmesan (or other grana cheese), plus some salt and pepper, if you think it needs it, and beat vigorously for a soft, wavy consistency. To serve, swiftly ladle the risotto on to warm plates, then bash the bottom of each plate against a worktop so the rice spreads evenly. You could dot the top with good balsamic vinegar, or simply serve the very white risotto alongside a salad of colourful leaves.
