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Lucky dip - Donna Hay and rice balls


This lucky dip is a bit tricky - well not tricky but what to choose to write about is the big question.

The book is from a series of smallish books, that I suspect I picked up in Aldi. The series is called Simple Essentials and this volume is Pasta, Rice + Noodles. There are six books in the series - I have just one other - Beef, Lamb + Pork. I suspect the series is a bit of a cynical publishing enterprise and for all I know the recipes are duplicated from her magazines or elsewhere, although the one shown at left - Parmesan Rice Balls does not appear on her website.

The picture above is one of three on the page I opened. In fact the double spread is all pictures. Well that's Donna Hay for you. A lady of few words and spectacular pictures - well obviously the pictures are from her design team, not her. Which sort of implies that it's all style and no substance. But this is not true. Her recipes are good - interesting and mostly simple.

I thought about writing about style and imagery in cookbooks - but I've done that before. So I sort of decided to look into rice balls - otherwise known as arancini or supple al telefono, so I started looking to see what else she came up with in this field. And I found this really glorious photograph. Isn't it wonderful? Really, really classy - and so simple. Less is more in the world of Donna Hay imagery. Arancini, white paper, curled just so, white tray and blurred horizontal stripes of background. It's the kind of picture I could happily have on my wall. I hope it won an award.

PARMESAN RISOTTO BALLS

1 teaspoon thyme leaves

1 quantity basic risotto - a risotto made with 2 cups of rice, stock, onion and parmesan. Very basic.

125g block of parmesan cheese

Vegetable oil for deep frying

Mix the thyme into the basic risotto. Divide the risotto into 10 portions and shape each portion to a ball. Cut the parmesan into 10 pieces. Pale a piece of parmesan in the middle of each ball and press the risotto over to enclose it. heat the oil in a saucepan over medium-heat. Deep fry the balls, in batches for 3-4 minutes, or until golden. Drain on absorbent paper. Makes 10.

This is really very, very plain and not really what we know as arancini - though to be fair to her, she does not call them arancini. But it is one of those basic recipes which lays the ground for you to improvise at will.

As to arancini - well Felicity Cloake of course gives the rundown on how to make the perfect arancini. As she notes - none of her 'classic' Italian food writers - Marcella Hazan, Elizabeth David and Anna del Conte mention arancini at all. I just had a quick check in my library and notice that neither Claudia Roden nor Italy the Beautiful mention them either. Felicity Cloake's theory is that it's either because they are originally from Sicily or they are too simple. I tend to think it's because they are street food and, moreover, food made from leftovers. It's a bit like the jerk that I was writing about the other day. Something that has become a hit world wide, but does not appear in earlier cookbooks, even though they supposedly have ancient origins.

In the case of arancini (which means little orange - for obvious reasons if you look at the photograph above), that history dates back to the 10th century when the Arabs ruled Sicily. They brought rice to Sicily and eventually somebody thought to turn leftover rice, and then leftover risotto into a delicious snack by coating them in egg and breadcrumbs and deep frying. They could then be packed for lunch out in the fields. A bit like Scotch eggs, as Yotam Ottolenghi says.

For yes, arancini are usually made from leftover risotto and filled with all manner of things, from vegetables, through cheese to leftover ragù. In Sicily they are a traditional food on December 13th the feast of Santa Lucia. Bread and pasta are not eaten on this day to commemorate the arrival of a ship full of grain on that date in 1646, thus breaking a famine. Which doesn't quite make sense because arancini are coated in breadcrumbs. Anyway that's the story. In Sicily they are sometimes formed into the shape of cones that mimic the shape of Mount Etna. Which means that they are rather heavy looking I think.

According to Giorgio Locatelli the arancini of northern Italy are a more recent thing. And almost everyone seems to agree that they are a Sicilian thing. Interesting to imply that those 'old' writers such as Elizabeth David and Marcella Hazan should consider the food of Sicily beneath their notice. I suspect she could be wrong there - must check out whether they have recipes for other Sicilian classics - such as cassata and caponata.

Donna Hay herself has several other recipes for risotto balls or arancini - though one that I found for arancini was also not really arancini as there was no rice - they were actually meatballs. Jamie Oliver, of course, has a few - but then he's a street food kind of guy. Indeed almost all modern cooks have a recipe for arancini - and every Italian restaurant will have some in their antipasti section.

Felicity Cloake seems to think that although those 'old ladies' might have considered them too simple, in fact they are not that simple. There are a number of things that can go wrong, They might fall apart, the inside might not cook, or they might be soggy rather than crisp. Funny how the simple things often turn out not to be simple after all.

Hugh-Fearnley Whittingstall neatly sidesteps the deep-frying bit by making patties rather than round balls, which means that they can be shallow fried. He claims they are simpler to assemble and also simpler to cook. They look yummy. But I guess we are now morphing into the general category of fritters and fish cakes and things. Related but not the same. I fear that deep frying is a must if you are going to actually make arancini. He also has a talented food stylist by the way.

The other pictures on that page in my lucky dip book, by the way, were a Thai Fried Rice and a Pancetta and Sweet Potato Risotto. The arancini picture was prettier I thought, so that's why I chose it. But then I'm a superficial kind of lady. Hence this blog. I do a short piece, rattled off in an hour or two. Others write whole books. I bet there's a book on arancini somewhere.

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