Beetroot risotto
Beetroot is something I’ll eat but my tastebuds don’t get all tingly at the prospect. Put a beetroot in front of my parents and they get dizzy. I think my Dad’s favourite sandwich is cheese and beetroot. Roberta has a thing for beetroot too. Personally, I wouldn’t order a dish that puts beetroot centre stage. But if it’s in, say a goat’s cheese tartlet, and there’s no other starter that tickles my fancy, then I’m happy to chow down. Typically I enjoy earthy vegetables—just not beets it seems. Some say beetroots taste of dirt. I disagree. They can certainly be a little bitter but when combined with something like goat’s cheese and caramelised walnuts their natural sweetness comes out. There lies the secret, by jiminy! They’re most enjoyable when paired with something sweet, sharp and fresh.
Beetroot is often boiled to oblivion. But then its exotic colour is lost to an unappetising murky brown. To boil beetroot, season the water. Taste it. You want it “salty as the sea”. And use plenty of water. For a flavour boost, add red wine vinegar. To roast beetroots, wrap in foil and sit them on a bed of rock salt rather than directly on the oven tray so they don’t get scorched. Once cooked, peel, then marinate with things like lemon zest, thyme, spring onion and vinegar. Season at this point. And don’t be afraid—beetroots take plenty of salt. Best though, in my opinion, are beetroots baked in a salt crust that includes the desired flavourings.
At Le Cordon Bleu I made my peace with beetroot and came to appreciate the versatility of this bulbous root. There’s no denying the splash of colour it brings to a plate. Now I enjoy cooking with it. With a few unused beetroots in the fridge after the duck dish, I couldn’t resist cooking up this ruby-red temptress of a risotto. Even at the risk my kitchen becoming a gory scene from a bad slasher movie. As for the pink pee? Well, that will just make me giggle tomorrow morning.
So, first step? Roast a beetroot, then peel and purée it. I used the trusty Boltardy, common in most supermarkets. You obviously want a purple beetroot. Next, make an onion cream. This is a substitute for the double cream which would be added at the end. Large onions were roasted skin-on in the oven until very tender. The soft, translucent middles were then removed and blended until smooth and creamy. The onion cream was finished with a splash of olive oil, a sprinkle of salt, and lemon juice to taste.
This stuff is really good! The roasted beetroot purée and onion cream were set aside for now.
Now to prepare the risotto.
Finely diced onion was sweated in butter. The Arborio rice was added and stirred until lightly toasted. Cooking liquid was added gradually, stirring it in until fully absorbed. Stirring stops the rice sticking and burning. It also gradually erodes the starches on the surface of the grains, releasing them to slowly thicken the cooking liquid. First a few ladles of hot water were added. Then the beetroot purée with another ladle of hot water to thin it out. Then a couple of ladles of beetroot juice. I cheated and bought juice. Using beetroot juice lets the rice grains soak up all the earthy beetroot flavour.
Risotto is done when the grains of rice are soft on the outside while the kernel remains firm and chewy. On the plate, a good risotto should be gloopy and not claggy. Know what I mean? LOL.
The onion cream was folded through to complete the luscious texture. I couldn’t resist adding a tablespoon of double cream too. Naughty me.
The risotto was served with a Parmesan and thyme tuile, and homemade Labneh infused with cracked black peppercorns.
Boy oh boy, this is a vibrant dish. The colour is eye-popping! Sunglasses may be necessary. Healthy too! I gotta tell ya—I was gobsmacked just how great this risotto tasted. And remember! I’m the one not fussed on beetroot. It’s a real showstopper. Bloody delicious. Texture is nothing short of decadence. And it’s a right looker on the plate. FTW. I’ll be doing this again.