Praise be to risotto and to all her leftovers

... with a recipe for a crisp-but-gooey-inside risotto cake

I didn’t know risotto existed until well into my twenties. Mind-bending, isn’t it, given its universality now? Growing up, the closest I came was the bowl of rice my mum made us for breakfast now and then. I’d sprinkle a thick blanket of sugar on top, pour a little milk around the edge to create a moat, and aim to get some hot rice, sweet crunch, and cold milk in every bite. It was comforting and tasted good, but oh my god, what an epiphany when I eventually ate risotto for the first time.

It’s the yardstick by which I can measure how completely my favourite staple foods have changed since childhood; now, my weekly kitchen rituals wouldn’t be the same without risotto. Sunday’s roast chicken becomes Tuesday morning’s burbling pot of stock becomes Tuesday night’s risotto becomes (if we haven’t greedily gobbled it all up) a crisp risotto cake (the recipe I’m sharing today) for lunch on Wednesday.