risotto ancora una volta, una volta




it is almost impossible to better the best.
how could you beat the voice of 'la divina', frying finer than chesapeake soft shells, driving a 280 pagoda, having dinner at le bernadin.
excepting this here risotto.
a cold starry night, a snap crackling fire, you're in cashmere socks, cat in your lap, a sip of islay, a food for the spoon.
you're lucky to own the cook knows the way of risotto.
you ain't got no cook, nor a kitty, what a pity, but take heart, here's a notion, read this in the morn of a sun-in-blue-sky icy day, so go get what you'll need for the night:
bonito dell norte, fior di riso carnaroli, dense double chicken stock, cipollini onion, fine butter, petit pois frozen peas, parmigiano regiano, fresh tarragon leaves. not in this order, but get the best you can find of all, no worries for budgets. a little salt.
so, you'll get a half quart of stock rolling, drain the tuna from the can, slit the vacuum bag of rice for a cup, dice one cipollini as fine as those very grains of rice, froth the butter on high to blister that onion. roil the rice in this fusion, add simmering stock, a ladle per time to reduce and again, till all broth is absorbed. quick now, stir in the peas. pronto, take the tuna to a heated bowl, ladle the finished risotto over the top, consecrate shaved regiano and tarragon, as if in holy mass, then instantly lump and take to the spoon. cupping the warmed bowl, scooping one lovely bite at a time, sipping laphroaig, little water aside, some cuddling cat in your lap, the glow of the blaze, the legend singing casta diva from the 1949 performance in buenos aires, verdadera, that, will keep you warm any a cold starry night.