If your idea of the perfect evening includes wine, you need this one recipe (sip and cook)

Some nights call for a big night out.

Other nights call for an open bottle of crisp white, a favorite playlist, and something bubbling away on the stove that basically forces you to slow down and enjoy yourself.

This is that night—and this is that recipe.

I’m talking about a creamy, plant-based white-wine mushroom risotto that feels like a hug in a bowl. It’s simple enough for a Tuesday but romantic enough for a Saturday. It gives you time to sip between stirs, which is exactly the point.

Let’s cook.

The vibe

Put on a record or a low-stakes playlist—something you know by heart so you don’t skip around. Light a candle if that’s your thing. Grab your favorite wooden spoon. Pour a glass of wine you actually like drinking.

Risotto has a reputation for being fussy. It isn’t. It’s just attentive. You add a little liquid, you stir, you taste. You adjust.

That’s not stress—that’s presence. It trains your attention to sit in one place for 25 minutes, which is a rare gift in a scroll-happy world.

The recipe

Creamy white-wine mushroom risotto (100% vegan)

Serves: 4 as a main
Active time: ~35 minutes

You’ll need:

• 1 ½ cups arborio rice (or carnaroli if you can find it)

• 1 lb mixed mushrooms, sliced (cremini + shiitake + oyster is a great trio)

• 1 medium yellow onion, finely diced

• 3 cloves garlic, minced

• ¾ cup dry white wine (Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Grigio, or a dry Albariño)

• ~5 cups hot vegetable stock (keep it simmering in a small pot)

• 3 tbsp olive oil, divided

• 2 tbsp vegan butter (optional but lovely)

• 1 tsp fresh thyme leaves or ½ tsp dried

• ½–1 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste

• Freshly ground black pepper

• 2–3 tbsp nutritional yeast or ¼ cup finely grated vegan parmesan-style cheese

• Zest of ½ lemon and 1–2 tsp lemon juice, to finish

• Chopped parsley or chives, to garnish

Do this:

1. Sauté the mushrooms. Heat 1 ½ tbsp olive oil in a wide, heavy pan over medium-high. Add mushrooms with a pinch of salt and let them sit until they sear on one side. Stir and cook until browned and their liquid has mostly evaporated. Scoop them into a bowl and set aside.

2. Build your base. Drop the heat to medium. Add remaining 1 ½ tbsp olive oil and the onion. Cook until translucent and sweet, about 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and thyme for 30 seconds.

3. Toast the rice. Add the arborio rice and stir to coat in the oil and onion goodness. Toast for 1–2 minutes—grains should look glossy and smell nutty.

4. Deglaze with wine. Pour in the white wine. Listen to the sizzle (best sound). Stir until the pan looks almost dry and the wine’s sharpness has mellowed.

5. Ladle and stir. Start adding hot stock ½ cup at a time, stirring gently and almost constantly, letting the rice absorb most of the liquid before the next addition. Keep the simmer steady. Taste as you go; adjust salt. This takes about 18–22 minutes.

6. Finish creamy. When the rice is al dente and suspended in a saucy wave (not a solid mound), turn off the heat. Stir in vegan butter, nutritional yeast or vegan parmesan, and the sautéed mushrooms with any juices. Finish with lemon zest and juice. Grind in black pepper. If it tightens up, loosen with a splash more hot stock.

7. Serve right away. Risotto waits for no one. Ladle into warm bowls, shower with herbs, and take a sip. That’s dinner.

Why wine belongs in the pot

Wine does three things here. First, it lifts flavorful browned bits from the pan after the mushrooms and onion work their magic. Second, its acidity brightens the richness so the risotto tastes lively, not heavy. Third, the aromatics in dry white wine—citrus, green apple, herbs—thread through the rice and mushrooms like a subtle perfume.

You’ll taste it, but it won’t shout. It’s the supporting character that makes the lead look better.

And yes, some alcohol sticks around after cooking. That’s normal. If you’d rather go alcohol-free, you can swap the wine for a 50/50 mix of veggie stock and a splash of white wine vinegar or lemon juice and still get that bright edge.

Add the acid gradually, taste, and trust your palate.

The right bottle to sip

I keep it simple: use a dry white that’s crisp, not oaky.

Sauvignon Blanc (zesty, green), Pinot Grigio (clean, pear), or Albariño (citrusy, saline) are perfect with mushrooms. If you love something slightly rounder, a stainless-steel–aged Chardonnay can also play nicely.

One more thing—this is VegOut, so I care about what’s in the bottle beyond flavor. Many wines are fined with animal-derived agents like casein or isinglass.

Look for “vegan-friendly” on the label, ask your shop’s wine nerd, or check community resources like Barnivore to confirm.

Pairing-wise, what grows together often goes together. Mushrooms and forest herbs meet wines with herbaceous notes and good acidity. Sip the wine you’re cooking with and pour a second glass for the table. That continuity makes the meal feel seamless.

Make it your own

I’ve mentioned this before but the fastest way to make a recipe “yours” is to swap one element, add one accent, and honor your preferences. This risotto invites tweaks:

• Spring energy: Stir in blanched asparagus coins and peas during the last 2 minutes. Finish with mint instead of parsley.

• Fall coziness: Add roasted delicata squash cubes and a pinch of nutmeg. Swap thyme for rosemary.

• Umami boost: A teaspoon of white miso whisked into a ladle of hot stock disappears into the rice and deepens everything.

• Truffle whisper: A tiny drizzle of truffle oil right before serving is luxury. Tiny is key—too much can overwhelm.

• Cheesy vibe: If nutritional yeast isn’t your thing, try a high-quality vegan parm grated finely. Stir off the heat so it melts into the sauce.

• Red-wine lane: Craving something moodier? Use ½ cup dry red wine in the deglaze and swap half the mushrooms for diced cremini + chopped walnuts. The risotto will take on a plum hue—beautiful, earthy, and dramatic.

Technique notes that make the difference

• Keep the stock hot. Cold stock cools the pan and slows everything down. A small simmering pot is your friend.

• Stir with intention, not anxiety. You don’t need to stir nonstop. Think “frequent and friendly” to help the rice release starch without beating it up.

• Listen to the pan. A gentle simmer sounds like tiny applause. If it’s roaring, reduce the heat. If it’s silent, nudge it up.

• Taste early and often. Salt gradually as the liquid reduces; it’s easier to add than subtract.

• Aim for waves. Perfect risotto should spread slightly when you spoon it onto a plate—what Italians call “all’onda,” or “like a wave.” If it sits like a mound, add a splash of stock and stir.

Make it a ritual

This is more than dinner. It’s a 30-minute practice. Sipping and stirring has a way of settling the mind. You’re close enough to hear the pot and far away enough from your notifications to remember you have a body.

I sometimes use the risotto window to set a tiny intention: Who am I cooking for? What kind of night am I creating? Then I let the spoon do its circles and the answers show up without force.

If you cook for someone else, invite them to join at the stove—one person stirs while the other refills the glasses. Talk about anything but email. Laugh. Taste from the spoon like you’re co-conspirators.

Leftovers, storage, and next-day magic

Risotto is best right away, but leftovers happen. Cool quickly and store in an airtight container for up to 3 days. Reheat in a pan with a splash of stock to loosen it. It won’t be exactly the same, but it will still be delicious.

Or turn it into arancini (those golden, crisp rice balls). Stir a little extra vegan cheese into cold risotto, shape into golf balls, tuck a tiny cube of vegan mozz inside if you like, roll in breadcrumbs, and bake at 425°F (220°C) until deeply browned and hot, about 18–22 minutes. Serve with warm marinara and a big salad and tell me that isn’t a perfect lunch.

Serve it like you mean it

Warm bowls make every risotto better. Drag a spoon through the center before topping with herbs so the steam escapes instead of watering down the garnish. Finish with a microplane snowfall of vegan parm or a dusting of nutritional yeast. A few extra thyme leaves or chive batons on top say “I cared.”

Set the table—yes, even if it’s just you—with a cloth napkin and the same wine you cooked with. Take a bite, then a sip, and notice how the acidity resets your palate so the next bite tastes like the first again.

The small, good life (in one pan)

This isn’t about perfection. It’s about the tiny ceremony of standing at the stove with a glass of something hopeful and making food that tastes like attention. One pot, one spoon, one playlist. A mushroom risotto that loves you back.

If your idea of the perfect evening includes wine, this recipe delivers. Sip. Stir. Taste. Repeat. And when the bowls are empty, the night will still feel full.