It's not hard. That's what kills me. It's not hard.
It's rice. It's literally the simplest food that exists. Half the planet eats it every single day. Billions of people have been making it correctly for thousands of years without a recipe, without measuring cups, without a goddamn YouTube tutorial.
And yet. Here you are. With mushy rice. Or crunchy rice. Or rice burnt to the bottom of the pot that you're currently soaking in the sink.
I don't know what to tell you. Actually, I do. That's why I wrote this.
Put the rice in a bowl. Add cold water. Swirl it around with your hand. The water will turn cloudy and white. That's starch. Drain it. Do it again. And again. Until the water runs mostly clear — usually three or four times.
Why does this matter? That surface starch makes rice gummy and sticky. If you want separate, fluffy grains, you rinse. If you skip this step and complain about mushy rice, I don't want to hear it.
Yes, it takes two extra minutes. Do it anyway.
This is where everyone fucks up. They eyeball it. They guess. They use some random number they half-remember from the back of a rice bag ten years ago.
Stop guessing.
Brown rice needs more water (1:2 or so) and more time. Different types vary slightly. But for standard long-grain white rice — one to one and a half. Start there.
Too much water = mushy. Too little = crunchy, burnt bottom. This isn't complicated.
Put rice and water in a pot. Add a pinch of salt if you want. Bring it to a boil over medium-high heat. Once it's boiling, reduce heat to LOW. Cover it. Set a timer for 18 minutes.
Then — and this is critical — do not touch it.
Don't stir it. Don't peek. Don't lift the lid to "check on it." Every time you lift that lid, steam escapes. Steam is doing the cooking. You're sabotaging yourself. Walk away. Do something else. Leave it alone.
Timer goes off. Turn off the heat. Keep the lid on. Wait 5 to 10 more minutes.
This is the step everyone skips. The rice is still steaming, still finishing. If you dig in immediately, it'll be wetter than it should be. Let it rest. The texture will be better. I promise.
Then fluff with a fork. Not a spoon — a fork. Gently. You're separating grains, not mashing potatoes.
I already said this but I'll say it again because you're going to do it anyway. Steam escapes. Cooking time gets thrown off. Your rice ends up undercooked or unevenly cooked. The lid stays on. Period.
You're not making risotto. Stirring releases starch and makes everything gluey. Put the spoon down. I'm serious.
Thin, cheap pots have hot spots. Hot spots burn rice. Use a heavy-bottomed pot with a tight-fitting lid. The lid matters. If steam is escaping around the edges, your ratios mean nothing.
High heat to boil. Then LOW. Not medium. Not medium-low because you're impatient. Low. The rice should be barely simmering, not vigorously bubbling. High heat the whole time = scorched bottom.
You are not good at eyeballing. Nobody is. Your grandmother who "never measures" has been doing it for 60 years and her hands know. Yours don't. Use a measuring cup.
Some people say it doesn't matter. Those people like gummy rice. If you want fluffy, separate grains, rinse until the water is clear. Two minutes of effort. Massive difference in texture.
If you're making fried rice — use day-old rice from the fridge. Fresh hot rice has too much moisture. It'll steam and turn to mush instead of getting those crispy bits. Plan ahead.
I'm going to be honest with you. If you're still screwing up rice after reading all this, just get a rice cooker. They're idiot-proof. You put in rice, you put in water, you press a button. It handles the temperature, the timing, everything. You can't mess it up.
And if you're going to get one, get one that actually works.
This is the one. Japanese engineering. Fuzzy logic technology — it adjusts temperature and timing automatically based on what's happening inside. Makes perfect rice every single time. Brown rice, white rice, sushi rice, porridge. All of it.
Will it last? Mine's been running for twelve years. Not a single problem. Buy once, never think about rice again.
Get the ZojirushiCan't spend $180? Get an Instant Pot — you probably already have one collecting dust. Rice function works fine. Or a basic $25 rice cooker from any brand. Even a cheap one is better than whatever you're doing on the stovetop.
But if you eat rice more than twice a week, the Zojirushi pays for itself in saved frustration. Trust me.
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That's it. Rinse it. Measure it. Don't touch it. Let it rest.
Four steps. Billions of people do this daily without incident.
There's no reason this should be hard for you.
Now go make rice. Correctly. For once.