As a child growing up in Wanganui, New Zealand, rice was rarely eaten. Potatoes, kumara and bread were the carbohydrates of choice for my mother Timmy and step-mum Rose. The times I can remember eating rice in a savoury dish were when mum would cook an occasional Chinese-inspired fried rice, or Rose would make a minced beef or sausage curry and we’d eat it with boiled rice. Rose’s father Vic would also make the most delicious hot rice pudding by slowly baking pudding rice with lots of milk, butter, sugar and a little nutmeg - he said slow cooking was the secret to the smoothest pudding and he seemed to always get it right. When I moved to Melbourne, aged 18, I began to eat at Thai and Cantonese restaurants and suddenly realised that rice wasn’t just an adjunct to a meal, it was often the main part of a meal. I also discovered Italian risottos and Spanish paellas, Turks and Greeks were stuffing vegetables with rice, vegetarians were making nut and rice loaves. Chinese congee and Indonesian lontong (compressed rice) were both made by overcooking rice in various ways. To this day I am a huge fan of rice in its many forms, colours, textures and varieties - and there are many varieties.
