The Bitter Leaf

Tag: radicchio

  • Risotto al Radicchio di Treviso

    The first tardivo of the season arrives in late autumn and I always make this the same week.

    1. Sweat a finely chopped shallot in butter, add 320 g Carnaroli rice and toast for a minute.
    2. Deglaze with a glass of red wine (yes, red — it suits the colour).
    3. Add hot stock a ladle at a time for about 16 minutes.
    4. Halfway through, stir in 250 g shredded radicchio; keep a handful raw for the end.
    5. Off the heat, beat in cold butter and Grana Padano. Rest for two minutes, fold in the raw radicchio and serve.

    A few drops of aged balsamic on top are optional but recommended.

  • Grilled Radicchio with Balsamic, Honey and Walnuts

    Ten minutes, five ingredients, and it converts radicchio sceptics every single time.

    1. Quarter two heads of Treviso radicchio lengthwise, keeping the core so the wedges hold together.
    2. Brush with olive oil, season with salt and grill on a very hot pan for 2 minutes per side until charred at the edges and just wilted.
    3. Warm 2 tablespoons of balsamic with 1 tablespoon of honey until syrupy.
    4. Drizzle over the radicchio, scatter toasted walnuts and shavings of Parmesan.

    The heat mellows the bitterness and the honey does the rest. Excellent next to grilled sausages.

  • A Field Guide to the Chicory Family

    Every winter someone asks me what the difference is between endive, chicory, witlof and radicchio. The honest answer: they are all Cichorium intybus (plus its cousin Cichorium endivia), and the names change depending on which side of the Channel you are standing.

    Belgian endive (witloof, chicon)

    The pale, torpedo-shaped heads grown in the dark from forced roots. Crisp, juicy, gently bitter. Raw in salads, braised in butter, or wrapped in ham and baked under cheese.

    Radicchio

    The Italian red chicories. Chioggia is round like a small cabbage, Treviso precoce is long and tight, Treviso tardivo looks like a firework and is the best of them all. Grill it, roast it, stir it into risotto.

    Puntarelle

    Catalogna chicory shoots, a Roman winter speciality. You slice the hollow shoots into thin strips and soak them in iced water until they curl.

    Escarole and frisée

    Technically endivia, but they behave the same in the kitchen. Escarole is lovely wilted into beans; frisée wants bacon and a poached egg.

    Chicory root

    The large-rooted varieties are dried, roasted and ground into the famous coffee substitute. More on that in the Root & Coffee section.

    Rule of thumb: the paler the leaf, the milder the taste. Bitterness is a feature, not a flaw — balance it with fat, salt, acid or sweetness and it sings.