Name: Italian Pot Roast & Parmesan Risotto
Prep time: 25 min
Cook time: 2 h 45 min
Total time: 3 h 10 min
Yield: 6 servings
Cuisine: Italian
Ingredients: 3 lb beef chuck roast; 2 tbsp olive oil; 1 large onion, chopped; 3 cloves garlic, minced; 1 cup dry red wine; 1 (28 oz) can crushed tomatoes; 2 cups beef broth; 2 tsp dried Italian herbs; Salt and black pepper, to taste; 2 cups Arborio rice; 4 cups chicken broth, warm; 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese; 3 tbsp unsalted butter; Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Catching Up Over a Hearty Meal (and Maybe a Glass of Red)

You know those recipes that are less “oh, here we go again” and more “let’s make a memory tonight”? Well, this Italian Pot Roast & Parmesan Risotto is that dish for me. It’s got this homey, all-day simmer vibe that makes the whole house smell like, well, family (in the best way—none of that mysterious sock-in-the-corner aroma). I started making it on rainy Saturdays back before I even owned a Dutch oven—honestly, I improvised with a big old soup pot and years later, I kind of think that stubbornness made it taste better. Or at least, that’s what I tell anyone who casts shade at using mismatched cookware. Anyway, one time my cousin Sally tried to steal the leftovers, so now I always double the risotto. Lesson learned (and forgiven—sort of).

Why You’ll Love This (Besides a Nap Afterward)

I pull this out when I want to feed a crowd without collapsing from stress (or when leftovers are the real goal). My family goes bonkers for the pot roast, especially the weird parts where it gets all melty and fork-soft—I still dream about that one bite I lost to my dog, Cleo. If you’re anything like me, you love a dinner that does most of its own work in the oven while you putter around pretending to clean. Plus, the risotto’s an old trick: if you stir, it works. If not, well, just call it creamy rice stew and move on! (Hint: more Parmesan fixes just about anything. Except when it doesn’t—but we won’t talk about that night.)

Gathering Up What You’ll Need

3-4 lbs (about 1.5 kg) beef chuck roast (sometimes I’ll use brisket if that’s all the shop has—it’s a little pricier but even richer)
2 big onions, chopped (any color, though yellow’s what my grandmother swore by—red makes it a bit sweet, not bad either!)
4 carrots, peeled and chopped into fat chunks
3 celery ribs, roughly chopped (I’ve swapped in fennel before, only when feeling fancy)
4-5 garlic cloves, smashed (or, honestly, measure with your heart)
2 cups crushed tomatoes (canned is fine; I buy whatever’s on special, but San Marzano is best for taste snobs)
2 cups beef or chicken broth (better if homemade but I rarely am that organised)
1 glass red wine (plus extra for chef, naturally)
Handful fresh rosemary and thyme—dried works if you, like me, sometimes forget to buy fresh
Pepper & salt, to taste (start light, fix later)
For the risotto:
- 1 1/2 cups Arborio rice (or Carnaroli—Arborio’s easier to find, so I just roll with it)
- 4 cups chicken broth, kept warm on the stove (sometimes I mix in water if I’m running low)
- 1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano (Parmesan works and I won’t tell anyone if it comes from a green can once in awhile!)
- 2 tbsp butter, plus a smidge extra for finishing
- 1 medium onion, minced
- White wine, a good splash (optional but, why not?)

Making the Magic Happen (Or at Least Dinner)

Brown the roast: First, pat the beef dry and salt it a bit. Get your Dutch oven (or whatever sturdy pot you have) hot, add a glug of oil and brown the meat on each side. Don’t rush this—it’s like getting a good suntan without the sunburn. Set the meat aside when it’s got a nice golden crust (I’ve definitely skipped this in a hurry; it’s still tasty, but you miss some oomph).
Vegetables & garlic: Chuck in the onions, carrots, celery, and garlic. Let it all sweat until things get fragrant and a bit soft (about 8 minutes, but sometimes I just go by my nose).
Deglaze the pan: Pour in that wine—it’ll sizzle and spit, which is half the fun. Scrape up all the good bits from the bottom (this is where I usually sneak a taste of the wine, you know, just for science).
Sauce & herbs: Plop in the crushed tomatoes and broth. Toss in herbs (I tie mine in a string so I don’t have to fish out leaves later, but you do you). Bring it all to a bubbling simmer, then return roast to the pot.
Low and slow: Cover and slump the whole pot in the oven at 300°F (150°C) for about 3-4 hours. Don’t peek too often or it’ll get grumpy. When you do check, the beef should practically fall apart when poked. If it doesn’t, give it another half hour—resist the urge to crank the heat.
Risotto time: About 35 minutes before the beef is ready, start the risotto. Melt butter in a large pan (wide helps), throw in onion and cook gently. Once soft, toss in the rice and stir for a couple minutes until the grains get a bit translucent around the edges.
Wine & broth by the ladle: Pour in a good splash of white wine if you have it, stir, then start adding hot broth a ladle at a time. This bit’s like gardening—slow and steady, letting the liquid absorb before adding more and keeping things moving. Don’t stress; if you step away for a second (as I inevitably do), it’ll forgive you.
Finishing move: When the rice is still a bit chewy but looks creamy (about 18-20 minutes), stir through the Parmesan, a dollop of butter, maybe a little extra salt. Taste—actually taste—and adjust.
To serve: Shred the beef into big, hearty hunks (or slice if you’re feeling fancy), ladle over some veg and sauce, and plop a mound of risotto on the side. If you like, add more Parmesan up top—nobody complained yet.

A Few Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me

If your roast seems a bit tough, just let it go longer; patience is your friend. (But not forever—once I let it go six hours and it was almost, uh, too tender?)
Don’t sweat the risotto “rules”—I once forgot to heat the broth and, you know what, it worked fine but took longer.
You can totally make the pot roast ahead; actually, I think it tastes better the next day after a nap in the fridge.
If your Dutch oven has a dodgy lid, just wrap some foil on top. (Mine’s been missing a handle for, honestly, years now.)

Variations: My Adventures (Not All Successful!)

Sometimes I swap out potatoes for the carrots—works, but kinda makes it stew-like (not my fav, but my friend Tom swears by it).
I once tried barley in the risotto because I’d run out of arborio—interesting texture, but also chewy in a weird barley way. Not my finest work.
Added mushrooms to the risotto once (brown ones, nothing fancy); it turned earthy and richer. Pretty good, might do again.

About the Tools (and What to Do If You Don’t Have ’em)

A Dutch oven is dreamy for this, but I’ve made it in a big slow cooker (just brown the meat separately if you can).
No fancy risotto pan? Just use your widest, deepest frying pan—mine’s got a chipped handle and honestly it’s the hero of my kitchen.
Ladle for the risotto is handy—though a mug or even a measuring cup does the job if you’re in a pinch. Improvisation is half of home cooking anyway.

Stashing the Leftovers (If That Ever Happens)

This keeps in the fridge, snug in a container, for about 3 days; reheats beautifully. It freezes okay, just not the risotto—it goes a bit strange, like a cold rice pudding (which, if you like, go for it!). Honestly, leftovers in my house vanish by lunch the next day because someone—naming no names—snacks at midnight.

How I Like to Serve It (And Maybe You Will, Too)

We do this family style—warm plates, big spoonfuls right at the table, and nobody gets up until the pot’s basically empty. Once or twice, we’ve had it with sautéed greens on the side, usually when I’m feeling virtuous after too much good cheese. A bitter salad (like this Italian salad from Bon Appetit) is a bonus. And yes, always with a glass (or two) of cheap-ish but tasty red wine—the kind where nobody remembers the label but everyone wants seconds.

Lessons Learned (aka Pro Tips After Messing Up)

Don’t rush searing the meat. I tried once, it was pale and, well…flavorless. Live and learn.
Keep tasting the risotto as you go; once I powered through in a hurry, only to realize I’d forgotten all the salt. Parmesan helped, but not enough!
If things start sticking, don’t panic—just splash in a bit more broth and keep going; a little color on the bottom is fine, just don’t set off your smoke alarm. (Ask me how I know.)

FAQ Time: Things People (and Family) Actually Ask Me

Can you make this pot roast in a slow cooker? Sure can! Just brown the meat and veggies first on the stove if you have time, then dump everything else in the slow cooker. Set it on low, come back in 8 hours (give or take).
Is risotto really that hard? Not at all. It’s more about patience (and lots of stirring if you want that super creamy thing). I mean, I still get distracted and, on second thought, I reach for extra butter as insurance.
What cut of beef is best? Chuck is my standard, but brisket or even short ribs work—just stick to something with some fat and connective tissue so it actually gets tender.
Can I go dairy free? Hmm, well, I’ve tried risotto with a faux Parmesan and, honestly, it wasn’t my cup of tea. But maybe I’m too fussy. Earth Balance for butter works fine though.
Actually, do you really have to use wine? Nope, skip it or sub with more broth, but the flavor’s a smidge deeper with it. Up to you!
Need more detail on risotto basics? I sometimes point folks over to Serious Eats’ risotto guide—they’ve tested every trick in the book.

Anyway, if you give this a shot, send me a pic or drop a comment below (or just tell me if you find a way to make the risotto less clingy—mine always hugs the spoon). Happy cooking from my slightly-chaotic-but-always-hearty kitchen to yours!

Italian Pot Roast & Parmesan Risotto