The rice thing to do

That title is even less clever than the other ones I've written, but the only other one I could come up with is "rice is nice." It really is, but as a catchy line? BLECH. Sort of the "Hey, what sign are you?" or "Do you know karate, because your body is killing me."

People really say those things, don't they? Oh, here I go, digressing again. Back to the subject at hand.

We learn, from food anthropologists, that rice is the staple food of a larger percentage of the world's population than any other. In fact, Annalena knows from her undergraduate years when she studied Asian languages, that the character for rice and the character for food , in Chinese, are one and the same (and she could probably write it into this blog if she knew more about computers, but she doesn't, so you'll have to accept it as fact). Also, as a point of fact, the standard way to say "good morning" in Chinese is to ask "have you had your morning rice yet?" It's that important. Think about it: the word for "food" generally is "rice." There's something pretty deep there.

Many of us don't eat much rice at home. We eat potatoes, bread, but little rice. I suspect that this is due , in part, to a feeling that it's hard to cook, or "mysterious." To some extent I can understand this from my early life. Bear with me through a story that I SWEAR is true.

You know from this blog that my grandmother did the cooking, and I got what skills I have from her. Mother, on the other hand, was a wreck as a cook. Everyone knew it too. Except Mom. Yup. She thought she was an excellent cook. So, one Saturday, when Nana was visiting my aunt, Mom decided to make rice for dinner. She was using one of the precooked rices. Their advertising material said "you don't boil it so you can't overcook it." It was, literally, supposed to be ready in a minute. If I recall how this ghastly stuff was prepared, you poured it into a pot, added water, turned on the heat, brought the w ater to the simmer, then covered the pot and left it alone. A "minute" later, you had rice.

I hesitate to think what they did to it. Anyway, that Saturday, I remember sitting in the living room, as my mother came out of the kitchen, shaking her head "I can't believe it. It's been two hours and that rice still isn't done yet." I looked up and said "You've had it on the flame for two hours and it's not cooked? " And she looked at me, smiling benignly, the way one does to a person who one thinks is stupid, and said "Oh, how sweet. But dear, you don't put rice on the heat to cook it. Everyone knows that."

Well, the young Annalena (Annalenette, perhaps?) took over. Even then, she was a food snob but she bravely made the rice, finding the hidden stick of butter in the refrigerator instead of the margarine mom was planning to use, and made the rice. Guess who took credit?

When I speak of rice here, I need to be clear that I am speaking of long grain, and medium grain white rices. Short grain rices, like arborio, carnaroli and nano are used for risotto and desserts, and are cooked differently. So, too, are the Asian short grain varieties. Brown rice is a subject onto itself, as is any of the "hulled" rices, like Hawaiian red, or black rice, and so forth. "Wild rice" is not rice at all, and it, too, is cooked differently. But generic "rice" or "valencia" rice, or "basmati" rice are all cooked the same way. Annalena, like her friend Chris, prefers basmati to all others, but uses valencia for paella in her constant quest for autheticity. Here's how she does it, combining several techniques and a "trick" she taught to her two friends, Louie and Michael (mentioned earlier in this blog) last night (Annalena will NOT comment on this dinner other than to say, well, that she will say nothing).

We are taught to cook rice using proportions: one part rice to two parts liquid. That may very well be the right proportions; however, there are some things to be careful of. If you try to cook too little rice, you will inevitably burn it. Try not to ever cook less than one cup of dry rice. If there are leftovers, they will keep, and they can be used as reheated rice, or in a bread loaf, or fried, or many other ways.

I actually use a trick that many cooks do, in determining how much liquid to use. I put the rice into a three or four quart pot, and then use my finger as a measuring point. If you touch the rice at the top, and then add liquid to the first joint of your index finger, your proportions are right. I have been doing rice this way for many years, and it never fails.

Now, I said liquid. Not water. Water is traditional, but you can use stock of any kind of course. You can use mixtures of wine, water, stock, vegetable juices, anything you want, as long as the liquid has a water base. If you try to cook rice in milk or cream, you will not be able to cook it completely. That is because the fats and proteins in the dairy cook on the surface of the rice grain, and keep the liquid from getting inside of it, and cooking it. If you want a dairy based rice (coconut milk rice, for example), what you will want to do is twice cook the rice. Anyway, after you have the liquid in the rice, you add salt if the liquid isn't salty. UNLESS you're cooking a Chinese or Japanese meal, because then the rice is unseasoned. How much salt? A very good question. Less than you think you'll need. At this point, you also add any dry spices you might want to add. I like saffron in my rice, and I always add a really big pinch of this wonderful stuff. It dissolves into the water, gives the rice a beautiful color, and a terrific, subtle flavor. You can use other spices. Chili powder, cinnamon, ginger, are all good. So is a bay leaf, but take it out before you serve the rice.

Adding fat is optional, and I usually don't. If the meal I am serving is especially lean, I will add a tablespoon of butter to about a cup and a half of dry rice, but otherwise , no. And speaking of butter, here's a "truc" that Annalena learned years ago, didn't believe, but it works. One of the problems with rice cooking is that bubbles form, and there is "boil over." How to prevent it? Rub a bit of butter along the rim of the pot, just before you cover it. And cover it you must. TIGHTLY. Then put it on the heat. Medium heat. And let it cook.

How long? Again, a good question. Annalena was taught to cook rice for "exactly 17 minutes." Don't ask me where this came from. In my experience, this is too long. Engage your senses. When rice is done, the liquid will be gone, and you will see "craters" in the rice, where bubbles have come up. At this point, unless you want a rice crust - and you might - turn off the rice , fluff it with a spoon or fork, cover it and let it rest for five minutes. In some cooking, for example, Persian cooking, you want the bottom of the rice to form a crispy crust. If you're looking for that, cook the rice further and listen. You will start to hear a "snapping" (the "snap, crackle pop" of rice crispies), and you may smell a bit of a toastiness. That's what you want. Then you stop the cooking. In Persian cooking, if this type of rice is served, you must put a bit of crust on everyone's plate, otherwise they have been insulted. This is why Annalena doesn't make it very often: she likes the crust, and will eat it all herself, insulting everyone.

And that's all there is to it. Except.... Rice admits of additives. You can stir bits of meat, or vegetables into it, cooked or not. Here, you have to use your judgement. Peas go really well with rice, and they cook so quickly that you should put them in at the very end, and cover for not more than five minutes. Longer than that and they lose their lovely color. Other vegetables, that may take longer to cook, like asparagus tips, should be put in sooner. And if it's a vegetable that takes a while to cook - like mushrooms, or onions, then cook them separately and stir them in at the end.

So, like Louie and Michael claim to be, learn to be versatile. Instead of potatoes and bread every night, make some saffron rice. Or other rice. You'll be happy. Louie and Michael were.