The Philosophy of the Arancini
I can't afford higher end ingredients. I doubt I'll ever hold a black truffle in my hand, or cook with jewel-toned pearls of high end caviar (not that I'm a fan, really, but still), or slip a tiny, quivering quail egg's yolk onto a steaming burger. Although, sometimes, once in a blue moon, I will splurge on something, usually a proper brisket or minute roast, or something a little more...more. Like a veal roast or brisket. I bought a standing rib roast ONCE. Two years ago, in honor of my husband's Rosh Hashanah holiday bonus. Best $60 I ever spent! I'm sure there were other things we could've spent that money on. A new outfit for the holiday, some regular groceries, rent. I seared it first in my Dutch Oven and then finished it off in the oven. One bite of the succulent, tender meat, all beautifully glistening deep brownish-red with tiny flecks of black crusted here and there on the surface and plump with juices that leapt up and pooled against the serrated edge of my knife as I cut into it and I wanted to cry. It smelled of meat. Just the unadulterated, carnal scent of meat. And it was heaven. All seven levels of it.
I also bought a young duck to roast once, once, when the money was not as tight (read: nonexistent) as it is now. I created a makeshift steamer basket out of tinfoil (I keep a strictly Kosher household and rendering my pareve steamer basket meaty for only one experiment seemed like an awful idea), to simply raise the poor beast off the bottom of the pot and steamed it first to render that abundance of duck fat under the skin before the final roasting. When it was done, it was a beautiful bird, golden skinned, as deep an orange as the setting sun, but my husband was not a fan of the texture of the meat. Was it my cooking? Or was it simply the bird? I haven't made one since, but maybe I should give it another go. It sure would be nice to sink my teeth into a duck breast again.
I also don’t use very many appliances. I use an oven, stove, grill and slow cooker for actual cooking (although we did rely on a toaster oven until about a year ago, and I even baked a full bundt cake in it once! But in our little house we have no counter space and have had to go without). I’ve never seen an instant pot in real life. I don't sous vide. Heck, I don’t even use my KitchenAid stand mixer for most of my baking. Up until recently we had two microwaves (one for meat, one for dairy) that we rarely used. Now that our dairy one is broken and I’ve forbidden my husband from buying a replacement, we have only one that we rarely use. Then there’s the sandwich maker we used a handful of times years ago. Aside from a food processor, blender and citrus juicer and coffee maker (okay, in this case I have three: a compact Nespresso machine, a beautiful stoneware pour over set and a huge regular brewer. It's not that I have an obsession with coffee makers; I won two out of three of those in Instagram contests). In general, it seems I prefer sticking to basic- some might argue "old fashioned"- cooking methods. The truth is, I like my life like I enjoy my cooking: simple, yet (ful)filling.
For me, cooking with expensive ingredients is nice and using cool new gadgets can be time-saving and perhaps yield perfect results every time but I'm way more intrigued by the idea of using the best quality ingredients I can afford to create a wholesome, delicious meal that can be stretched to its limits and sometimes even further. This was one one thing I always did, even before my budget got smaller. I loved the concept of "leftovers", the notion of not letting a single thing go to waste, using an entire food entity, cooking "nose to tail" using vegetables, if I could. To me, it's akin to godliness, the ability to use every last bit of what you are given towards something and not have anything to clean up afterwards, or throw away aside from a single pot or a spoon. (I do admit, that sometimes I get a little carried away with plating styles or ingredients that I'm working with and end up using more than one knife or plate or bowl or pot as I figure out which direction I'd like to take. I do believe this is an ideal, although I have to get better at it.)
This is what makes the Italian Arancini di Riso seem so charming and perfect to me. It is the very hallmark of resourceful cooking. You cook up a pot of risotto that-when served- is delicious, creamy, total comfort food and filling in every way and IF there are leftovers, you take that sticky, cold mound of otherwise unappealing stiff rice pudding and with some culinary magic it becomes something else entirely, a delicious dish in its own right. It is proof that with some creativity, ingenuity and resourcefulness that was and still is an integral part of Italian cooking, anything can be stretched and used to its fullest potential until it is completely consumed, leaving behind as least waste as possible and lots of memories instead. Besides, less waste means less money down the drain and less taking out the trash. That's something I can definitely get on board with.
**For this recipe, you will need to refer back to my previous blog post entitled "Saving the World, One Meal at a Time" where you will find both the recipes for the Risotto and for the Tomato Confit.
Arancini di Riso con Formaggio di Capra (Goat Cheese), Slow-Roasted Heirloom Tomato Confit and Basil Oil:
Ingredients:
1 Pot Risotto, as per previous recipe in archives, without the tomato puree, black garlic and balsamic vinegar
1 Pan Slow Roasted Tomatoes, as per previous recipe in archives, pureed or mashed and heated
1/2 cup Flour + more if needed
salt and pepper to taste
2-3 ozs Soft Goat Cheese/Chevre cut into half inch cubes or balls
2 eggs, whisked
1 Cup fine Bread Crumbs
Olive oil, for frying
fresh herbs, finely chopped (optional)
Instructions:
1) Refrigerate the risotto overnight. In the morning, add salt and pepper to taste and more herbs if desired. Form the risotto into balls roughly 2 inches in diameter. If needed, add a couple tbsps flour to the risotto if it's not holding together enough for extra structure. This is entirely optional and will depend on the texture of the original risotto and how long it sat in your fridge. **I experimented with both versions and found perks in both. The added flour arancinis were "meatier" and denser and slightly easier to roll. They also had a mild "sweetish" flavor from the flour, while those with no added flour were lighter and fluffier but also a little more difficult to roll.
2) Gently push a small cube of cheese into the center of each ball and push the rice back in place over it to close. re-roll the balls back into shape.
3) Coat each ball in flour gently by rolling it around the bowl and spooning flour over it so it doesn't lose its shape. Place on a cookie sheet lined with parchment and place in freezer for about an hour (they can also remain there overnight, if desired). In the morning, re-roll in flour.
4) Dip each ball into egg and then coat well with breadcrumbs. Arrange on cookie sheet until ready to fry.
5) Fill a high-walled skillet about an inch with olive oil and heat on medium. When hot, add the arancini in batches, taking care to have an inch or more space between them so as not to crowd the pan. Fry on all sides until golden brown and crispy, about 5 minutes. Transfer to clean platter lined with paper towels. Spoon some tomato confit into small appetizer size or ice cream bowls. Top each with a single arancini. Drizzle a splash of basil oil into the sauce. Serve immediately with some minced fresh herbs, if desired. Enjoy!
Notes:
I prefer my tomatoes mashed vs pureed because i enjoy the added texture, but feel free to puree if that's your preference.
These arancinis can be made ahead, gently reheated in the oven to melt the cheese inside, then given a quick fry off just to get them crispy again.
I haven't seen it anywhere else, but I find that the double floured method helps form a barrier against the moisture of the rice to allow for a crispier exterior.
My basil oil was purchased from Trader Joe's, but it is fairly simple to make herb-infused oils. Just puree a couple of cups of oil with a few cups of basil and heat it on low for about a minute. Then gently strain very well through a fine mesh sieve or coffee filter. The blacker liquid is simply basil water which should be poured off. Store in a jar.