Our resident chef notes there is much to learn about a simple grain
I thought I knew what rice tasted like. White rice tasted like thousands of gummy, flavorless, starch blobs whose sole raison d’être was to soak up the flavor of whatever I mixed with it; and brown rice tasted like thousands of gummy, papier-mâché flavored starch blobs that tasted like licking a cardboard box no matter how much butter or chicken broth you added to the equation.
But then my sons smuggled a small cloth sack of freshly harvested rice back from a village deep in the mountains of Nepal. That small sack of rice changed the way I looked at this ubiquitous grain for the rest of my life.
I put a pot of this precious contraband on the stove with nothing but a touch of salt and the wonderfully fragrant aroma of rice immediately filled the kitchen. This was not a vague, hint of rice smell that would sometimes come from those carbs-in-a-minute boxes; this rice grabbed your face in both hands and kissed you with an aroma that was enough to make me start reconsidering my relationship with Uncle Ben before even taking my first bite.
But when I did take that first bite, I could only think, “Oh! That’s what rice is supposed to taste like!” In that moment, I realized the rice I had been eating my entire life was an imposter, a mountebank feeding me weak pabulum in the guise of nutritious grains.
The taste was subtly sweet and simply more “ricey” than any rice I had ever encountered. Think of the difference between freshly ground coffee and coffee that’s been in the back of your freezer for two months and you’ll be getting at the difference between this rice and run-of-the-mill supermarket rice.
Then, a wave of sadness swept over me as I realized I would probably never have this taste again. The local supermarket certainly didn’t carry fresh, hand-farmed rice from Nepal, but I wondered about those bags of rice stacked shoulder-high in the Asian and Indian markets around town. I wondered if those varieties of rice would really be that much different from those $.99 bags of white rice or even the Good Uncle.
The short answer is yes, and you should stop buying cheap, supermarket white rice unless you prefer flavorless, nutrition-deficient granules of discontent. But which rice should you buy? There are more than 40,000 varieties of cultivated rice and it seems like most ethnic markets stock all of them, so it can be daunting to figure out which rice to buy for your shrimp creole or stir-fry. If you keep the following basics in mind and stay away from cheap, supermarket white rice you’ll step your rice game up dramatically.
• American long-grain white rice is the most common rice in American kitchens. Basmati rice and jasmine rice are not only much more flavorful than their long-grain American cousins, but they are also “aromatic” varieties and are much more fragrant. I recommend “Three Ladies” brand jasmine rice from Thailand (it’s my favorite all-purpose rice) and “Dehraduni” basmati rice from India.
• Short-grain rice is used in Japanese and Caribbean dishes due to its clingy, moist, and firm texture when cooked. Nishiki Japanese rice is my go-to short-grained option but California Calrose rice is excellent as well.
• Sticky rice, or glutinous rice, is a specific type of rice that is sweet and especially sticky when cooked. For dishes such as Thai mango and sticky rice, this is the rice you need.
• Medium-grain rice varieties like Arborio and bomba tend to absorb copious amounts of liquid and produce a lot of starch, so they are perfect for dishes like paella, risotto, and soups plus desserts like rice pudding.
• Brown rice has had its outer husk removed, but retains its bran layer (unlike white rice), along with more vitamins, minerals, and fiber than plain or instant white rice.
• Colored rices, like red, black, and purple, also derive their color from pigments in the retained bran layer and share a distinctive nutty flavor and firm texture.
• Pro tip: wild rice isn’t actually rice, it’s a grain harvested from several species of grass. Tastes good, but it’s not rice.
If you’re still unsure, the best option is to just ask the folks at the market which rice matches what you’re looking for or suits the dish you’re cooking. They know what varieties they have on hand and the differences between them, and you won’t have to learn Thai, Bengali, or Indonesian to sort out your Japonica from your Kullakkar. Life’s too short to eat bad rice!
Mike McJunkin is a native Chattanoogan who has traveled abroad extensively, trained chefs, and owned and operated restaurants. Join him on Facebook at facebook.com/SushiAndBiscuits