Good Goo

Okay, so, risotto. I've always wondered, what's the appeal? A bowl of gooey rice studded with bits of this and that? Hmmm, I'm from Missouri.

Being a risotto skeptic (though not actually a Missourian), I had never eaten it before, never been tempted to try it in a restaurant as there were always yummier-sounding options on the menu and certainly never been tempted to make it at home, what with all the ladling and stirring described in the recipes.

Just goes to show how wrong I can be.

On a whim, I made risotto for the first time last night and it was not only laughably easy but quite, quite delicious as well. From the various recipes I read, it looked as if you just start with aromatics, rice and wine, and the rest is up to you. So, to the minced garlic and chopped onion that I sizzled in a heavy, large pot in a little olive oil and butter combo, I added a measure of my homemade duxelles before adding a cup of rice for a few minutes of cooking, then about half a cup of white wine.

When the wine was absorbed, I started ladling in the hot chicken stock by half cups until all five cups (to one small cup of rice!) were absorbed, stirring more or less continuously. It sounds far more tedious than it is - in a way, it's nicely contemplative - and it only took about 20 minutes. At the end, I added a big handful of freshly grated Parmesan cheese and, for just a minute or two, the frozen peas and chopped leftover chicken to warm the meat and gently cook the peas.

That's all there was to it! At the table, with the candles lit and the rest of the bottle of wine at his elbow, My Beloved and I added a bit more cheese to the goo in our bowls, marveling at the creamy texture and rich taste that just a few ingredients, patiently combined, can produce.

Busy Day Dinner

My Beloved and I tend to eat dinner on the early side, around 6:30 or 7:00; we are not the sophisticated sort who dine at 8:30 or later. However, when he has one of his sales managers in town, it's hard to predict what time he'll be home for dinner. The sales managers are all nice guys but some like to stop for a drink at sunset after a busy day, others prefer to hole up in their hotel rooms and get a little more work done. When MB sags through the door around 7:30pm, I know it's a good night for a quick dinner of poached eggs.

This time, I had a special treat ready. When I made duxelles earlier, I made extra so I'd have some on hand. Duxelles are an easy way to raise a ho-hum dinner into a pretty spiffy one. I just heated the duxelles in a small pan while the English muffins and the eggs cooked, spooned a little of their dark magic over the hot muffin halves and topped them with the eggs. We sat down to a mushroomy, shalloty dinner less than 15 minutes later and just minutes after that, he was flaked out on the bed, ready to relax for the rest of the evening.

Dux Redux

After making the Sauce Duxelles for our steak, I had about half a cup of duxelles left, so I decided to use it in a roast chicken - they didn't have a Cornish hen at my market that day, darn it! The leftovers would have been the perfect amount for a Cornish hen.

Oh, well. After rinsing and drying the chicken, I gently loosened the skin over the breast and patted the duxelles into place over the breast meat. If I'd had a bit more, I'd have done the legs, too.

Hawaiian red salt, freshly ground pepper, olive oil baste, lemon cut in half, squeezed over the top, tucked inside, roast in a 350 oven for an hour, baste twice, rest on the cutting board, yadda yadda.

Sliced with a hint of crispy skin and a layer of duxelles, the breast meat was out of this world, truly an explosion of rich mushroomy/oniony/chickeny flavor concentrated by the oven.

Duxe Luxe

Rummaging around in the crisper drawer, I found a bag of aging mushrooms, a few green onions and a handful of nice shallots to go with our London broil, so I asked My Beloved if he'd like duxelles with his steak.

"What's duxelles?" he asked.

After nearly 10 years of marriage and 13 years together, I was surprised he had never had them. They are easy to make and really enhance with their buttery richness a lean cut of beef like London broil.

I minced one green onion, two large shallots and about 10 small, fresh mushrooms (you can use just about any proportions that you like) and sauteed in generous butter first the shallot and green onion until soft, adding the mushrooms later. The mushroom mixture cooked together for about 10 minutes on medium heat, until the water released by the mushrooms had evaporated and the mushrooms were a little browned/caramelized, then added a splash of red wine.*

The wine had been a gift from one of My Beloved's sales managers and all-around nice guy, Jim, whom we invited for dinner last week. Jim brought this wine, an "Au Bon Climat" 2006 Pinot Noir, as a hostess gift and it was simply delicious, lighter and clearer than many pinots and very tasty. We drank all but about half a cup of the wine - too little for a glass and much too nice to throw away, so it made a super addition to my version of Sauce Duxelles. After reducing the wine by half, I added just a teaspoonful of creme fraiche to the sauce, stirred it in and drizzled some of the sauce over the rare steak.

Served alongside some Swiss chard that had been butter steamed with more shallots, it made a feast fit for a king or, more properly, for the Marquis d'Uxelles for whom the sauce was named.

*You can freeze duxelles, too, so I sometimes make a big batch when mushrooms are on special and freeze them in small packages for quick use later.