Rice & Grains

Posole is dried corn treated with limestone, a traditional American food that predates the arrival of Europeans by some thousands of years. In its ground form it is the main ingredient in tortillas, but for some reason the whole kernels are largely ignored in this country outside of the Southwest. (Hominy, which is essentially the same thing, has a bit of a following in the South, but again mostly in its ground form: grits.) Posole is also the name of a soupy stew containing, well, posole. It can be varied in many ways, but it is always delicious and distinctive. If you have time, soak and cook the dried kernels yourself: Rinse the posole, then soak it in water to cover if time allows, for up to 12 hours; cook in boiling water to cover, stirring occasionally, for 1 hour and probably longer. Season with salt and drain. Canned posole (or hominy) is almost as good, and reduces the time it takes to make this soup to about an hour.

Labor intensive, yes, but typically made as a group project and a fun one at that. The tamales in the frozen food aisle may be a quick fix, but they’re barely worth eating. These, on the other hand, are worth the effort. If you are using any of the chicken fillings, shred the chicken finely, then mix with the accompanying sauce. You can buy dried corn husks at any market that carries a range of Latin products; same with masa harina, though finding fresh masa may be a bit more challenging, depending on where you live.

Farro is a wheatlike grain grown in central Italy (known as spelt here). Barley makes a good substitute; cook it the same way. Here it is combined with a simple pesto; it’s a lovely picnic or summer party side dish, with almost anything.

You can also make this pilaf with rice, but bulgur makes it unusual and special. Serve with a salad and you’ve got a meal.

Plain barley, cooked any way you would rice, is fine stuff (make sure you buy pearl barley; the wholegrain variety takes forever to cook). But barley with some butter and dried mushrooms is just a fantastic midwinter side dish. Porcini mushrooms are best bought in large quantities; a pound might cost $40 or $50 but will last for years, whereas 1/2 ounce might cost $4 ($128 per pound) and last you a day.

This is lovely, strong-tasting, and quite complex. It’s a wonderful side dish but can also serve as the centerpiece of a vegetarian meal.

From the land of risotto comes yet another rich, full-flavored (but far simpler) rice preparation; butter is nearly essential here. With thanks to the great food writer John Thorne (see his Simple Cooking Web site, www.outlawcook.com), who first made me aware of the existence of this Lombardian dish.

Though there are similar rice-and-squid-ink dishes throughout the northern Mediterranean, I was introduced to this dish by a Croatian, so it is that country that gets the credit; Spaniards and Italians will no doubt be offended. The origins hardly matter, however; this is a wonderful and intensely flavorful dish. It’s unusual, too, for a few reasons: it’s a no-stir (or, to be more precise, a low-stir) risotto; it’s jet black; and it combines cheese and seafood, which is not exactly common and, for many of us—usually including me—a no-no. But it’s also easy, delicious, and striking, a perfect dish for entertaining. Serve it with a simple salad, a white wine from northeastern Italy, Austria, or, if you can find one, Croatia, and fresh fruit for dessert. You can find squid ink in small packages at fancy fish markets or European specialty shops (or, of course, on the Internet); it’s shelf-stable though it must be refrigerated and relatively inexpensive. And though its taste is pure squid, it’s the dramatic color that matters most.

In all but the best restaurants, risotto is abused—cooked in advance, baked, and who knows what else—so if you have never made risotto at home, you are in for a treat. It takes a little patience and a little practice, but it is not a difficult process at all. True risotto alla Milanese contains—indeed, features—bone marrow, but don’t be discouraged if you cannot (or will not) deal with that. Risotto is wonderful without it, and prosciutto makes an adequate substitute. What you do need are Arborio rice (now sold everywhere, but still best purchased in Italian markets), real saffron, and, ideally, good, homemade stock. (Having said that, see my “bare-bones” variation.) I might add this: After years of trying every possible technique to make my risotto as creamy as the best I’d ever had, I realized that the “secret” was large quantities of butter. Don’t hold back unless you must.

Non-Japanese may think of this as Japanese paella. Like paella, it may be made with or without seafood. Like paella, it relies on good ingredients, including rice and stock, and, like paella, it’s pretty straightforward to prepare and easy to vary. (You can make the recipe below not only with chicken but with almost any combination of seafood. You can also make it with vegetables; see page 510.) There is, however, a critical difference. Whereas paella usually relies on chicken stock, wine, and tomatoes, Kayaku Gohan (along with, it seems, about a million other dishes in Japan) uses dashi. This isn’t a problem, since dashi is easily made, as long as you stock kelp, a dried seaweed also known as kombu, and dried bonito flakes (bonito is related to tuna). Fortunately, each of these ingredients keeps forever, and each is readily available at Asian markets.

Paella isn’t always bright yellow rice studded with overcooked seafood—it’s not even always made with seafood. Here’s a great version made with chicken, chorizo, and mushrooms that I learned from Spanish chef Jose Andres, based in Washington, DC. It’s a hearty one-dish meal impressive enough for any company.

I didn’t understand paella well until I had this dish in Spain. Rather than a major production, it’s a simple combination of rice and shrimp, a terrific weeknight dish, as it has been in coastal Spain for centuries.

Somewhere in between a rice side dish and a one-pot meal—a form of paella, really—this can serve as either. A few bits of chicken browned along with the chorizo will go a long way. I love this with the warm taste of mild chile powder, but you can use hotter chiles or omit them entirely.

A kind of pilaf, really, but one that has become its own category, the mother of dishes ranging from Paella (page 519) to Coconut Rice and Beans (page 516). I cannot resist sautéing the rice in oil or butter first, but it’s not entirely necessary; see the simpler variation. (You can also use any of the variations on Pilaf, Many Ways, page 513.) Turmeric is a common and an inexpensive but one-dimensional substitute for saffron; it has none of the depth of flavor, though the color is terrific. You can put in a few roasted red peppers (page 470) or canned “pimientos” also, if you like; add them along with the rice. This is a side dish that has far-ranging applications but is especially fine with soupy beans.

This is a magnificent rice dish, one that could overwhelm other dishes with which you serve it. Therefore, it’s best to give it its due and accompany it with a couple of grilled sausages or very simply cooked steak, chicken, or shrimp.

Sadly, throughout Mexico, you see rice cooked with mixed frozen vegetables Birds Eye rice, essentially. Fortunately, the real thing is not that difficult to make and it’s infinitely better.

Unlike the often inedible rice that comes on every combo platter of tacos or enchiladas in this country (and, increasingly and sadly, in Mexico as well), this is the real thing. It’s the perfect side dish with any Mexican meal, especially when paired with Refried Beans (page 438). Whereas Spanish rice gets its color and flavor from saffron, the source here is fresh tomatoes.

A different type of coconut rice, one that is made fairly sweet but served with savory (even spicy) foods, like Stewed Lamb Shanks with Mushrooms and Pasilla Chile Sauce (page 414). You can add about 1/3 cup raisins or corn or thinly sliced and lightly browned ripe plantains (page 472) or even a bit of cinnamon.

I call this Caribbean because that’s where I first had it, but not surprisingly it’s a staple in much of Southeast Asia as well. Great with jasmine rice, it’s perfectly fine with any other short- or long-grain rice and can be varied in many ways. If you like, garnish with some chopped cashews or peanuts. I love this with spicy stews.

Nasi Lemak is a favored breakfast dish in Malaysia, where you get it from streetside carts and busy little restaurants that are closed by lunchtime. You start with a pile of coconut rice (which is the nasi lemak, though the name always refers to the dish) and point to what you want to eat with it—salads of pickled pineapple, deep-fried shrimp; the possibilities vary from place to place. The accompaniments suggested here are traditional and standard, and the recipes for the more unusual ones can be found in this book. Don’t feel compelled to have all of them, though it wouldn’t be hard to do so. The more things you have to eat the rice with, the more fun it is, especially at a dinner party. (I wouldn’t suggest trying to get it all made by breakfast.)