Wild Mushroom Pseudo-Risotto

Dear Shelly, Jenny, and the world,


I'm working out of a writer's space in LA. It's called The Hatchery and the people are wonderful. I feel very lucky to have quite literally stumbled into this supportive and kind community in a city where I feel like an outsider and well, am an outsider. I don't watch TV or movies or theater or improv. I don't have the white teeth or youthful body of an aspiring actress nor the speedy creativity of a screenwriter. But I get to walk into this space at 9:30am every morning, and people smile and nod at me. I sit down and work in a space where I am respected as a serious writer, even though my parents are my only patrons.


One day, at the Hatchery, a cute Vietnamese lady introduces herself. I've caught her looking at me like I'm a fascinating specimen, probably because I spend 8-10 hours a day writing on the same couch, legs crossed in lotus position. I'm here longer than most people. She's a comedy writer who does corporate copywriting to pay the bills.
“Want to grab lunch?” she asks and sits at the table next to me out of her own volition (!).
This is epic. If this was Mean Girls, then THAT was the pivotal scene when she put herself on the line!


But because I am both awkward and inward I end up totally forget about lunch and sit next to her for hours typing grimly away at my thesis, which is overdue. 
Around 5, she gets ready to leave. She packs up her gear and glides past me, a disinterested stranger. I am not worthy of a goodbye.
Please be my friend! I want to tell her. I'm not snubbing you! It's just that my writer's face kind of resembles resting bitch face.


I wish I was a faster writer with a cutting wit and sharp investigative skills.
I wish people didn't say "give us more context" when really what they mean is: Why did you bother me with an essay about China/Asian-Americans when I've read The Joy Luck Club?
I wish I could finish my thesis in time, but I can't. I've worked pretty damn hard though and it blows.
I wish that I didn't feel like I'm proving my critics right by missing my deadline yet again.
I wish I shared my boyfriend's love of the big screen and could join in his enthusiasm and jokes.
I wish I didn't yell at him and say things I regret.
I wish I was a natural at anything.


Graham, my boyfriend, is the opposite. Like Midas, everybody he touches (roll with my metaphor here) turns into a friend or a mentor. He's been a month at his new job and his co-workers invite him out to all sorts of get-togethers – end-of-week whiskeys, team lunches, cocktail hour, Magic The Gathering. He doesn't know it but he's in his element. Last week, his boss stopped by to say, “Hey!
You've learned in weeks what it takes other people to learn in months! And everybody likes you.”


I check his phone - no, I'm not “that girlfriend,” I'm the girlfriend who doesn't wear a watch - and see that he and his co-workers already have in-jokes. But I am thankful he's not sending snapchats of his penis to the hot girl with the adorable dog in the marketing department.


“How do you just make friends that easily? Teach me now!” I demand, when I pick him up from work. The failure to befriend comedy writer girl is fresh.
“Aww, but I like you. Just be yourself. Share your story and ask them what their story is.”
“If I had an approachable gullible-looking happy baby looking face like yours, everybody would like me too and I wouldn't have to try AT ALL!” I rage, poking him in the nose.
(Actually I feel lucky all the time. In my mind, he is like a $2,000 Chanel bag that I snatched up for $20 before murderous hoards of other single women descended.)


You know what I do have?


The ability to cook pretty well, and most importantly, a loose hand when it comes to butter, garlic, cheese, and wine.


This is wild mushroom risotto. I use it to win friends and love.


Contrary to what people believe, risotto making need not be precise.
Addendum: I should say, this is wild mushroom creamy rice, not risotto. Use what you have and don't buy anything you'll use only once and never again. Listen to my voice of experience: don't go in expecting to create a risotto on par with anything you'd get in say, Tuscany or Napa Valley and you'll be very happy with the fruits of your labor. I'm no Michelin-starred Italian chef, ladies and gentlemen.


I used Chinese rice, which means I had no expectations toward authenticity from the start. This helps when one is rushed for time and of modest means.


Notes: I bought as many chanterelles and morels as I could afford at the farmer's market and dry-sauteed these wild mushrooms in the pan with a huge pile of cheap brown buttons from Trader Joes to disguise their provincial origins. Dry-sauteing the mushrooms is the delicious secret of this recipe – THE lack of oil keeps the mushrooms woodsy and slightly crisped. If you saute them in butter like I used to, the main flavor note will be butter. Potatoes pa-tat-oes I guess, but the textural contrast of the crisped mushrooms and the creamy rice is really, really wonderful and you should try it this way.


I'm excited to make this risotto again, but with even more mushrooms – I'm talking equal parts mushrooms to rice – and it's going to be so delicious like eating an entire forest.


*
Wild Mushroom Pseudo-Risotto


Ingredients
Uncooked rice
Oil
Mushrooms, scrubbed, sliced, and towel-dried (with wild ones you may need to soak them for 10 minutes to remove bugs)
Garlic
Butter
Hard cheese, grated (I used Asiago)
Wine (Marsala or Sherry if you have it, if not, any white wine)
Broth or water or water + bouillon cube
Optional:
Seasonings (thyme, rosemary, sage or any combination work well)
Milk
Lemon Pepper
Olive Oil


Let pan sit on medium fire for a minute. Add sliced mushrooms and dry-saute in batches if necessary, for several minutes until crispy, stirring frequently. Set mushrooms aside.
Add oil enough to coat rice. Add garlic. Cook rice with oil for several minutes. Continue to stir frequently. Add a healthy dose of one-ish cup of wine. Let wine sizzle down.
Stirring, add 1 cup milk and broth cup by cup. Taste the rice, checking for a chewable but al dente texture. When you're finishing up, in go the spices and desired amount of butter (I liked about 3 tablespoons of butter to 3 cups of dry rice) and desired amount of cheese (all of it). Stir to combine. Toss in all your beautiful, woodsy mushrooms. Stir gently. Just enough to combine.
Serve with a healthy grind of lemon pepper and a dash of olive oil. Or, if you're feeling fancy, parmesan crisps.


*
“Hey! I brought some leftover risotto for lunch.” BE CASUAL, JOANNE. “Want to try some?”
“Sure I'll have a taste.”
“Whoa, that is good!”
“You want some more? I made a pretty big batch.” BE NONCHALANT.
“Yea!”
“This is delicious!"
"Can I pay you money to make me lunch?” she jokes.
“Oh, thanks! It's just okay. The rice is kind of soggy. And I used Chinese rice, not Arborio.”
“What are you talking about? This is really good!”
Shrug. “Nah, I'll make it better next time. But I'm glad you like it. Want to grab lunch on Friday?”