Roast pumpkin and mushroom risotto

My gorgeous gentleman friend is out of town.  He is a man of many charms, however one point of contention between us is PUMPKIN and another is MELTED CHEESY BUTTERY THINGS, both of which he doesn't like.  I know, right?  I must really love him.  Obviously, in his absence I am indulging in both of the above in the best Wintry form I can think of: risotto. 

Obviously risotto is one of those meals that, once you've nailed the baseline, you can take in whatever direction you want.  However one technique I have learnt (from the aforementioned absent pumpkin-hating gentleman) is that of preparing your star ingredients and adding them right at the end, so that they don't go soggy or mushy.  We've made gorgeous risottos with chilli powder dusted roast cauliflower, but tonight is all about the pumpkin and the cheese, with mushrooms as well because a) I have them and b) who doesn't love mushrooms.  My man insists that risotto must be firmly yet tranquilly stirred pretty much the entire time it's on the stove.  My own rule of thumb when making risotto is to use leek rather than onion - it's a gentler, greener and a subtler flavour - and to use butter and cheese as much as possible whenever he isn't around.

Ingredients:

• 1/4 Queensland blue pumpkin (or whatever alternative form of pumpkin you can lay your hands on - just let it be known that Queensland Blues are hands-down the best)
• 1 bag of white-capped mushrooms, roughly chopped
• dried porcini mushrooms
• 1 leek
• 2 large cloves garlic
• 2 cups aborio rice
• 1/4 cup white wine
• 5 cups vegetable stock
• 50 grated mozzarella
• 50-100g grated parmesan
• cracked pepper and salt
• olive oil and butter

 
So start by heating your oven to about 190 C and chopping up your pumpkin into bite-sized chunks.  Toss it in oil, salt and pepper and put it in the oven.  Next roughly chop your mushrooms, and finely chop your leek and garlic and put the 1.25 litres of water on to boil in the kettle to prepare your stock, if you're using the powdered variety.

After about 10-15 minutes add the mushrooms to the baking pan (the mushrooms will dry out much faster than the pumpkin so it's good to give the pumpking a head start).  Heat a large non-stick low and wide pan to a medium heat.  Once the pan is warm add a pour of oil and a small knob of butter.  Yes, that's right, oil AND butter.  That's how I roll when sir is away.  Sautee the garlic and leek until soft then add the rice and toss through until evenly coated in the oils.

Add the wine and some cracked pepper and stir with requisite tranquility until largely evaporated, and then do likewise with a splash of the stock (about 1/7th).  Pour some of the wine for yourself.  Drink throughout.  Chop your dried porcinis and scatter them through the rice.  You don't need to pre-soak them, they're going to soak up all your stock and wine.  Continue to add the stock in small batches, mixing it evenly through the rice.  The pan should be hot enough that the liquid simmers within 20 seconds if you stop stirring.  After your third or fourth batch of water (about 25 mins) turn the oven down to about 150 to keep your pumpkin and mushrooms warm but not burning.  When not stirring, grate your cheeses.

You'll need to taste test regularly (awesome) to see how the rice is progressing.  The interstitial liquid will start to get thicker but should never get gluggy.  When you reckon the whole lot is about 99% done, add the mushrooms and pumpkin and fold into the risotto gently, so as not to break up the pumpkin too greatly.  Finally, evenly sprinkle both your cheeses over the top and fold these in as well. 

If you're not sure which cheeses to use, go with your guts.  The parmasen is awesome with the mushrooms, and the mozzarella adds a springy, stringiness that I really love, but a creamy fetta or goats cheese would also work well with this combo. 

Pea and Broad Bean Chelow

I was recently given the most beautiful book, Saraban; it details Greg and Lucy Malouf's journey through Iran and includes recipes throughout.  It's just about the ultimate in food porn: exquisitely written, rich with culture, history and personal anecdotes, as well as beautiful photography.  I read it in bed at night with a cup of tea, and have been drooling at the prospect of making something from it soon.

The choices were extensive, but I couldn't go past a chelow, a classic Iranian rice dish that features a tah-deeg! It was a completely new way to make rice for me, and much more involved than the usual reduction method I use.  The resultant texture was much more soft and fluffy than any I could ever recall eating.  The tah-deeg literally translates to 'bottom of the pan' (apparently) and forms a crispy shell on the rice that I had to carve through with a carving knife.  It's scrumptious.

You can make a basic chelow or you can mix things through the rice, making it even yummier.  Since our spring vegetables are glorious, I decided to make a pea and broad bean chelow.

Ingredients:

•  300g basmati rice
• 1kg fresh broad beans in the pod 
• 600g fresh peas in the pod
• salt
• fresh dill, finely chopped
• dried mint
• lemon rind
• 1 clove garlic
• small knob of butter, melted
• olive oil

Start by soaking the rice in lots of lukewarm water for about half an hour, swirling it occasionally with your fingers - this loosens the starch on the rice.  Then rinse the rice in cold water.


While the rice is soaking, shell the peas and broad beans.  Blanche them in boiling water for about a minute, then rinse them in cold water.  Then remove the second shell on the broad beans by splitting it down the side with your finger nail, and then slipping the beans out (they'll do this easily).

Now, back to the rice!

Bring a large pot of water (about 2 litres) to boil with several tablespoons of sea salt.  Add the rice and boil for a few minutes, and no more than five.  The rice should have started to soften on the outside and still be hard on the inside, when you take it off the stove.  Again, rinse it immediately in cold water to stop it from continuing to cook.

For the next part, use a lidded saucepan with a nice wide bottom, maybe one that curves up the sides, as this will be the shape of the tah-deeg.  Add a generous pour of oil to the bottom of the pan and a few tablespoons of water.  Place the pan on a high heat.  Once the oil has started to sizzle, spoon rice over the base of the pan forming an even layer.  Mix the remaining rice with the beans, peas, dill and mint, and spoon it into the pan (apparently spooning it prevents it from squashing in the dish, and thus it gets fluffier) into a big rice pyramid.  Using the handle of the spoon, make five or six holes through the rice to the bottom of the pan to facilitate the steaming.

Place the garlic clove and lemon rind on top of the rice mountain.  Then mix the small knob of butter with a few large spoonfuls of water, and drizzle this over the rice.  The butter makes the dish quite rich so adjust to your tastes.  The recipe calls for about 40g, but I would use about half this.  (I was in such a flurry of activity getting all this done before too much steam evaporated, that I failed to take any photos of this bit).

Wrap the lid in a tea towel for an extra seal on the saucepan, and place it on the pan.  Preparing the rest of the rice will take about a minute, so then turn the heat down low and leave it for about 40 minutes.

 
Once it's done, immerse the pan in a sink of icy cold water.  This sudden change in temperature shocks the rice away from the sides of the pan.  Then, invert the whole pan onto a plate, and feel a thrill of excitement that it actually worked!

You'll need a sharp knife to break through the tah-deeg, and it's just as much fun as smashing the top of a creme brulee, only savoury.  I served the chelow in wedges with chermoula crusted whiting and wedges of lemon, and a really nice white wine my friend Mel kindly behind when she was here the other night.