2. Acquarello Carnaroli Rice
(continued... read the beginning here)
The Acquarello rice is grown on the Tenuta Colombara ("Tenuta" basically means "farm"). I haven't been in person yet but I have a feeling I'll get there in the next few years. The Rondolino family has been engaged with this particular bit of land since the middle of the 19th century. Cavour, famous statesman of Italian history, gave the family a commission to engineer the flooding of what became the rice fields in order to help hold off the Austrian army that was fighting to defeat the Italians during their War of Independence.

In 1935, Cesare Ronodolino bought the land, on which rice had already been grown for roughly three hundred years. His son, Piero who I met the other day at Alimentaria, bought more land and increased the size of the farm to about six hundred hectares, and that land was farmed by the family, using conventional means, up until the late 1990s. At that point, Piero and his son — Cesare's grandson — Rinaldo made a huge move: they put together a vision of a better rice, sustainably-grown, better tasting, better cooking, etc.

This change is no small thing for the family. I give them credit for developing an inspiring, out of the norm, vision and then for going after actually implementing it! I could write reams about all the work that the family has done to make this rice what it is, but I'll try to keep it relatively brief here. As with all agriculture, post harvest processing and nice packaging aren't likely to make mediocre produce into something great. As Piero pointed out with passion, "Our work is in the water."

First off, they downsized the farm from over 600 hectares to 130 in order to concentrate their efforts — now they're working only the most fertile fields on the farm. In the process, they dropped the overall yield of the farm to less than 10 percent of its previous level of 45,000 quintals. They're working completely organically at this stage. Rather than the old style hand weeding (see the classic Italian film, Riso Amaro for some insight into how hard this work is), they're working by flooding the fields to higher levels than usual. This works for them because they've been able to get their strain of Carnaroli to grow nearly twice as tall as most others do. They also use carp in the water to help keep weeds down. They now grow only Carnaroli rice — by getting all other rice varieties off the farm, they can insure the purity of the rice strain they're growing. (From what I know) the Rondolino family is the sole seller of certified seed for Carnaroli rice.

As a result of the move to organics, etc. the Rondolinos have helped to bring back the natural birds, fish, dragonflies, etc. that are native to the area. There are actually 18 species of dragonfly now found on the farm. I don't know how that compares to most — I'm not a dragonfly expert — but it sounds impressive. Bless their little insect souls — a good dragonfly reportedly eats 15 to 300 mosquitoes a day (I'm gonna get some for my house this summer).

One of the interesting things I've learned about the rice world in recent years is that there are skilled, passionate folks working at either end of the age issue — and they're both doing great work and selling us great rice. Glenn at Anson Mills is a big believer in the flavor of fresh rice. He's goes to great lengths to harvest fully ripened on the stalk rice and then get it into deep freeze ASAP in order to preserve its lively fresh flavor. It's much like the liveliness you get in any newly picked vegetable or even olive oil. You can taste the results of his work in the flavor of the Carolina Gold, which to my taste, is fantastic stuff.

Then, at the other end of the spectrum, there's aged rice. What you get from the aging is a concentration of flavors and an ability of the rice to absorb more of the liquid in which it's cooked — for dishes like risotto that absorption is critical. With that in mind, the Rondolino family are aging the Acquarello rice for over a year. The aging is done with the rice grains still in their husk — milling is done twice a year, once in the fall, again in the spring. Although not all the experts agree, they believe that starches in the rice continue to develop after picking during the maturing, and also that the proteins, starches and vitamins are less soluble in water after the aging. That means that the grains retain their integrity better, yielding a less sticky but still very rich risotto. Piero Rondolino demonstrated this to me the other day with great glee, showing me how rice that had been cooked four days earlier was still staying in separate grains, and how rice cooked two hours earlier but had been left at room temperature was still al dente in texture, and wasn't in the least sticky or gluey. The main thing is that aged rice absorbs more broth, meaning that it should net you a nicer tasting, richer rice dish.

While the Rondolinos are using some very modern technology for storing, they're using really old technology for the milling. This is the work that seems to have taken the rice from good to great in the last few years. It's a good example of the 2020 vision piece on "intentional technology" — the milling they're using is not cutting edge, but it works to enhance the quality of what they're doing. As of a few years ago, they're milling the rice using a machine known as the Helix. Invented in 1875, it's basically a screw/augur that slowly turns the rice grains and gradually rubs off the outer husk of the rice. The helix takes about ten minutes to do this delicate work; modern mills do the same thing by forcing the rice at high pressure through the polishers in six seconds. The slow Helix process keeps the natural nutrients in the rice intact. The friction and the low heat actually work to push the nutrients into the rice grain instead of taking them off as happens with commercial rice. The cost of working in this way is far higher but so is the flavor! The color of the rice is much darker. Piero brought out a tray of rice to show me the color contrast between standard Carnaroli and the Acquarello. The color of the rice is darker — more a very light honey color. The grains are notably large. He said that when they were sending the rice out to be milled it was still somewhat darker than what most Italian rice, but that with the screw it's much darker still.

Piero was also quick to point out how the careful handling the family is doing keeps the rice grains intact. Sure enough, looking at it, the small point at the end of each Acquarello grain is almost uniformly still there, but the points are almost entirely absent on most of the commercial Carnaroli grains. Because of the care in handling, the Rondolino family end up with a lot less broken grains — all of this is important not just for looks as you might think at first but because it makes for a much more consistent cooking. Right after milling, the rice is tinned and put under vacuum immediately afterwards to protect the freshly exposed surface.

By the way, the name "Acquarello" means "watercolor" (the Italian way of saying it wins out over English when it comes to romance in the words). The tin is indeed a drawing done — in watercolor of course — by Piero's other son, who studied art at the Art Center in Pasadena, which my film friend Brooke from LA who teaches animation says is "well known for their illustration, product design and graphic arts." Their teaching seems to have worked well in this case — it's a beautiful light blue and white watercolor of the rice fields; the bottom of the tin is silver and looks like the water reflecting the rice plants growing in it.

Anyways, if you're up for cooking a little Italian rice this week, check out a tin of the Rondolino family's fine work.