Risotto Nero の小説・ストーリー

"Yes. Velina is so good. This household doesn’t deserve her." Nero’s gaze burns a hole into the side of my face so I know my plan is right on track. Quickly picking up the serving silver spoon, I pile a generous portion of the braised meat and creamy risotto onto Adriano’s plate, making sure he gets the tenderest cut. Adriano hesitantly lifts his fork, to take a small bite. "I’m really new to Italian delicacies..." He chews, and his eyebrows lift. "Oh. Wow, this is wonderful." He goes in for a second mouthful with enthusiasm this time.

"For tonight's main course, we'll be serving wild mushroom risotto with parmesan polenta on the side, and for desserts, we have molten chocolate lava cake and crème brûlée-" I zoned out after that, barely hearing the rest of the word. My eyes were fixed on the host's mouth, trying to make sense of the fancy names but it sounded like gibberish. I didn't want to look like an idiot, so I nodded, hoping that it looked like she was following along. Giovanni's voice suddenly interrupted, "We'll start with the beef carpaccio with truffle oil. And a bottle of the '97 Chianti." His eyes didn't leave mine.

I nodded my head, well he wasn't as heartless as I thought. Rico went over to the covered pot and dished a plate of whatever Matteo prepared. He placed the plate in front of me, the sight I saw made me scrunch up my nose in disgust. "What the fuck is this?" I asked stared at the greenish looking food. Rico chuckled at my reaction. "It's called creamy avocado pesto pasta. Boss told Matteo to make it for you, in his words, 'your intake of junk food is unhealthy for the baby.'"

We made little conversation just to pass out time and arabella was really accomodative. “Arabella where do you keep the soy sauce” I asked as we were preparing an italian-Asian fusion risotto. Arabella said it was a creamy Arborio rice with umami-rich soy sauce. It was a savoury dish from what i was able to pick up. “The top cupboard at the right” She said stir frying the shrimps. “Okay” I said. However, i had an issue i couldn't reach the cupboard. I tried reaching for it but i couldn't and the kitchen stool was on the other side of the kitchen.

He roared. "I'm fine now Adriano. Can you please tell me the names of these foods? I'm curious about it." "Okay, my dear queen. The names of these food are; Olive Ascolante (Ascoli olives), Sardine in Saor, Tiramisù, Fritto misto piemontese, Fiorentina, Minestrone, Frico, Arrosticini and that one you are eating is called I formaggi." He pointed at my plate.

But now, my stomach didn't care about any of that. I placed the nylon bag on the counter and opened it. It was risotto alla Milanese, golden and creamy. The rich smell of saffron hit me first, warm and buttery, like comfort wrapped in luxury. It looked expensive. The kind of food served in big restaurants in Italy. My mouth watered.

Nicholas extended the menu towards her and dismissed the waitress to give Isabella sometime. Isabella scrunched up her nose because she couldn't understand anything; all the dishes were written in Italian and she wasn't able to understand a single word. Nicholas snickered at her scrunched up nose which made her to pass him a glare and he clipped shut his mouth. She tossed the menu towards him annoyingly. He shook his head at her antics and gestured the waitress to come closer without even looking at the menu. Isabella looked at him in confusion. "Baked ricotta with cherry tomatoes and basil; mashed cannellini beans with garlic and rosemary on toast." he said while Isabella looked at him like

Alessandro, though, just leaned back in his chair, his arm still annoyingly draped around her shoulders. “Are you keeping tabs on my dinner now?” he asked. I snorted, leaning back as well or trying to. The chair wobbled, and I had to grip the table to keep myself upright, “I’m just saying,” I slurred, “it’s not very gentlemanly to feed someone something you can’t even pronounce.” He smiled, “It’s risotto. Pretty sure I’ve got it handled.” “It's arancini,” Delilah said in the background but we ignored her.

He'd had ten years to dredge up a trillion variations of this conversation, but none seemed right when faced with the moment. Gino came out of the kitchen, wiping his pudgy hands on an apron wrapped around his girth. A wide smile split his ruddy face as he patted both their shoulders. "How are we doing, folks? Ready for my famous chicken cacciatore?" Noah glanced at Raven for an answer, but she was frozen in her seat. He looked at Gino. "You bet. Bring it out." Raven pinched her forehead. Noah didn't have time to say more because Gino returned and two steaming plates of food had been set down in front of them.

When it mattered. He watches Elijah finish the risotto. The rice is perfect — creamy, al dente, the texture that Elijah had spent years learning to achieve. He plates it, two bowls, and carries them to the island. "This is good," Alexander says, taking a bite. "It's the stock," Elijah says. "I made it yesterday. It had more time than usual." "The stock had more time?" "The stock needs time. The collagen needs to break down. You can't rush it."