Ohm Cookin' (or, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test)

 I've been cooking with gas for as long as I can remember. Even the crappy old 24" stoves from college in our crappy old apartments were gas, not electric. The last thing I can remember cooking on an electric range was the palm of my hand, when I was five. I've hated 'em ever since.

So, I thought the first meal I attempted on such a beast would have to be pretty simple. Simple in the sense of not requiring a lot of "flame" adjustments. See, I don't even have the vocabulary to cook electric.

This first attempt would be a simple baby portobello mushroom risotto, with several separate steps on multiple burners. Nothing too fancy, but with good whole-food ingredients.

First thing to think about is the broth. Generally, I would have some frozen home-made broth in the deep freeze. In fact, I abandoned several jars in Iowa, or at least gave them away. Great deeply-flavored roasted veggie broth based on a Mark Bittman recipe. Since I didn't have that luxury, and since I had decided to make a portobello mushroom risotto, it was easiest to make a mushroom broth from a mix of dried wild mushrooms we happened to have on hand. Simply grab a handful and throw them in six cups of boiling water. Simmer for a few minutes and then let stand, covered. This was the easy part: a five-year-old, with a scarred hand, can boil water on an electric stove.

Meanwhile, clean and slice the mushrooms. The real reason I decided on mushroom risotto was that we bought these lovely local baby portobellos at the farmers' market the previous Saturday and they needed to be used before they turned ugly. To cook these, in your most capacious skillet, sauté in olive oil for a minute or two some garlic or shallots, or whatever you have on hand. Then, turn the heat up to medium-high. When the heat reaches the proper temperature (how would one know, friggin' electric stove?), spread the mushrooms out covering the skillet. Resist the urge to turn them until the juices start to flow. When they are properly cooked, they'll be reduced in size about a third or a little more. Remove from heat and set aside.

I like the next step, because it doesn't involve the friggin' electric stove (FES). Using a fine sieve, strain the broth into a four-cup measuring bowl. You should have about five cups. I know what you're thinking: one cup will be on the counter. But there will be plenty of space in the bowl, no worries.

This is my favorite cooking step: taking care of the chef. In this case, a quaff of Fuller's ESB, the world's best beer.

Broth at the ready (make sure it's hot!), it time to turn toward the risotto. I long ago stopped using that pasty white arborio rice in favor of something whole grain and brown. Often, I use farro, which isn't rice at all, but rather an ancient whole-grain form of wheat or spelt, used predominant in Italy. Since I didn't have any farro on hand, I used short-grain brown rice. Saute in in olive oil some garlic or onion or shallots, whatever you have. Add the rice and cook for a minute or so.  Then, if you have white wine, add a half- to one cup. If you don't have white wine, it doesn't matter. It will just taste a little different. Not worse, just different.

After the wine has cooked down, add a cup of hot broth. Bring to a boil and then turn the heat down to a simmer. This might take a while on ol' FES. While many purists insist on constantly stirring the risotto as it cooks down, I find that this is ridiculous and takes away from a very important part of cooking...

...taking care of the chef.

Continue to cook the rice, adding a cup at a time of hot broth until you run out of broth. If, by then, the risotto is still hard to the bite, continue to add hot water until you're satisfied with the texture. The broth is flavorful enough that you needn't worry about diluting it with water. Another important consideration at this stage is the actual consistency of the broth. It should be creamy and luxuriantly shimmering, seducing you to take a spoonful. If it isn't, it's a total failure, worthy only of a trash bin. 

I decided to give ol' FES one final test by toasting some pine nuts in an iron skillet. This proved to be a bit tricky as control of the heat is so important. And using an iron skillet is pretty danged stupid if one wants to control the heat. However, through a combination of rapid stirring and kismet, the pine nuts turned out just fine. After they're toasted (this really brings out the flavor), add them to to risotto along with the mushrooms, and heat through—about a minute. Add a half cup or so of freshly and finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. Reserve a little for sprinkling at the table.

Voila! The beautiful salad was courtesy of my beautiful wife, Patty. It's made with fresh local blueberries and cucumber from the Trout Lake Farmer' Market a couple blocks away.

Finally, thanks to our friend Barb for this picture. I always figured if I ever did become a Christian, it might be of the Episcopal variety.