Growing up, rice was practically a religion in our house. My grandmother measured water with the focus of a woman defusing a bomb, using her knuckle as the only measuring tool she trusted. The lid stayed clamped on, the flame barely whispered under the pot, and anyone foolish enough to sneak a peek got the wooden spoon and a glare that could wilt parsley. That absorption method gave us fluffy, dependable rice every single time. But somewhere along the way, I started cooking rice like pasta, and I have to tell you—it’s a small kitchen rebellion that’s completely worth it.

I can practically hear the eyebrow raise. Boiling rice in a giant pot of water and then dumping it into a colander sounds like a mistake you make when you’re distracted. But it’s not. It’s an old trick that shows up in plenty of kitchens around the world, and it can give you lighter grains, less stickiness, and even drop the arsenic levels in your bowl. It doesn’t replace the classic method. Think of it as another tool hanging on your apron hook. Let’s talk about why it works, when it shines, and how to do it without ending up with a pot of sadness.

What Does “Cooking Rice Like Pasta” Actually Mean?

It’s exactly what it sounds like. You boil rice in a big pot of salted water—way more water than the grains could ever soak up—until it’s tender, then drain it through a fine-mesh strainer. No measuring cups, no tight lid, no timer anxiety. You treat it like a box of spaghetti: water, salt, boil, drain. All that extra water washes off some of the surface starch, which is why the grains come out separate and distinct instead of clumping together like they’re at a family reunion.

This isn’t some newfangled hack. In parts of South Asia and the Middle East, long-grain basmati gets parboiled and drained all the time, often before a final steam. You don’t even need to steam it after, unless you want to. A simple drain and a short rest can give you a light, almost airy texture that’s perfect for salads, pilafs, or a simple side where every grain stands on its own.

The Surprising Perks of the Pasta Method

I know the objection already: “Rosa, my rice cooker is my ride-or-die. Why would I mess with success?” Fair. But this method has a few real advantages, especially with certain types of rice or when you’re cooking for someone with specific dietary needs.

1. You Get Fluffy, Separate Grains Every Time

Starchy rice—I’m looking at you, short-grain varieties—can turn into a gummy block if your water ratio is off by a tablespoon. Boiling it in plenty of water rinses away that extra starch, leaving you with distinct, individual grains. It’s a total game-changer for rice salads, grain bowls, or any dish where you want a lighter mouthfeel. I use it for a cucumber-tomato rice salad with a sharp lemon vinaigrette; the rice stays perky and refuses to clump into a solid brick.

2. It Can Lower Arsenic Levels

Rice plants are weirdly good at pulling arsenic out of soil and water. The inorganic arsenic, the kind that actually worries health researchers, is water-soluble. Studies have found that cooking rice in a big volume of water—we’re talking six to ten parts water to one part rice—and then draining it can cut the arsenic content by 40 to 60 percent, depending on the variety. That’s not nothing, especially if rice is a staple at your table. The standard absorption method, where every drop of water gets sucked into the grain, leaves that arsenic right where it started.

3. No More Burnt Pots or Guessing Games

If you’ve ever had to chip a scorched layer of rice off the bottom of a pan while sighing heavily, you’ll appreciate this. Because there’s so much water in the pot, you’re not relying on perfect timing or exact heat control to avoid a burnt mess. You boil it until it’s done, then drain. It’s forgiving, which makes it perfect for new cooks or for those Tuesday nights when you’re juggling three pans and the smoke alarm is giving you the side-eye.

4. It Works for Almost Any Grain

White rice, brown rice, wild rice, even quinoa and farro—you can boil-and-drain practically all of them. Cooking times vary, but the idea stays the same. I often start a pot of brown rice this way while I’m chopping the rest of dinner, then drain it and let it sit covered for a few minutes. The result is chewy, nutty, and never mushy. It’s a small miracle.

When Should You Stick to the Traditional Method?

Let’s not pretend the pasta method is a magic wand. There are times when the old absorption method is still the right call, no question.

Risotto and paella need starch. Those dishes depend on the creamy, binding quality that comes from slowly releasing starch into a measured amount of liquid. Boil arborio rice and drain it, and you’ll lose the very thing that makes risotto silky. You’d just have wet grains with a lot of broken dreams.

Sushi rice has to stick. Sushi relies on grains that cling together like old friends. The pasta method would leave you with loose rice that falls apart the second you try to form a roll. It’d be a mess.

Sticky or glutinous rice desserts—mango sticky rice, for instance—need that cohesive, almost doughy texture. Boil-and-drain would rob them of their soul and leave you with something sad and crumbly.

And honestly, if you’re making a simple pot of steamed jasmine rice to soak up a saucy stir-fry, the absorption method is still perfectly lovely. The point isn’t to throw tradition out the window. It’s to know you have another gear to shift into when you want something different.

How to Cook Rice Like Pasta: A Step-by-Step Guide

Ready to try it? Here’s my method, with a few tips I’ve learned from splashing water on the stove and forgetting to set a timer.

What You’ll Need

• 1 cup of rice (white, brown, basmati, jasmine—whatever’s in the pantry)
• A large pot—bigger than you think you need, seriously
• Plenty of water (at least 6 cups for 1 cup of rice)
• Salt (I use about 1 teaspoon per 4 cups of water, give or take)
• A fine-mesh strainer or colander with small holes so you don’t lose half the rice down the drain

The Process

1. Rinse the rice. Dump the rice in the strainer and run cold water over it, swishing with your hand, until the water runs mostly clear. This washes off surface starch and helps the grains stay separate. For brown rice, you can skip this if you’re in a rush—it won’t ruin anything.
2. Boil the water. Fill your pot with water—eyeball it, just make sure it’s deep enough for the rice to swim around freely. Add salt, then crank the heat until it’s at a rolling boil.
3. Add the rice. Pour in the rinsed rice and give it a quick stir. The boil will calm down for a second; that’s normal.
4. Cook until tender. Keep the water at a steady bubble, not a violent eruption. Start tasting white rice after about 8 minutes, brown rice after 20. The grains should be tender but not mushy. I like a tiny bit of chew, like al dente pasta.
5. Drain well. Pour the rice into your strainer and let the water run off. Shake the strainer gently to get rid of the extra moisture. Don’t rinse it—you want to keep the warmth and the subtle saltiness from the cooking water.
6. Rest and fluff. Return the drained rice to the warm pot (off the heat) and cover it with a clean kitchen towel under the lid. Let it sit for 5 to 10 minutes. The towel catches the steam so the rice doesn’t get soggy. Fluff with a fork before serving and try not to eat it all straight from the pot.

What About Flavor and Texture?

People often worry that boiled-and-drained rice will taste like nothing or turn into a waterlogged sponge. I’ve found the opposite, honestly, as long as you salt the water like you mean it—just like pasta water. The rice picks up a clean, gentle seasoning that doesn’t shout but definitely whispers. If you want to nudge the flavor further, toss a bay leaf, a smashed garlic clove, or a strip of lemon zest into the pot while it boils.

Texture-wise, this method gives you grains that feel light and almost bouncy. They don’t clump, so they’re perfect for tossing with handfuls of herbs, toasted nuts, or a quick sauté of whatever vegetables are wilting in your fridge. It’s also a brilliant way to prep rice for fried rice: those dry, separate grains are exactly what you need to avoid a sticky, clumpy stir-fry that steams instead of fries.

Rice-in-Pasta-Water: An FAQ

A Few Recipes to Get You Started

Once you’ve tried cooking rice like pasta, you might start reaching for it in dishes that used to give you trouble. Here are a few ways I use it in my own kitchen.

Herbed Lemon Rice Salad: Boil-and-drain 1 cup of basmati rice. While it rests, whisk together lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and a pinch of sugar. Toss the warm rice with the dressing, then fold in chopped parsley, mint, diced cucumber, and crumbled feta. Serve it at room temperature and watch it disappear.

Weeknight Fried Rice: Cook jasmine rice with the pasta method earlier in the day, then spread it on a tray to cool and dry out a bit. Sauté garlic, ginger, and whatever vegetables are lurking in the crisper, push them to the side, scramble an egg, then add the rice and a splash of soy sauce. The grains will fry up beautifully, no clumps in sight.

Simple Buttered Rice: Boil and drain long-grain white rice, rest it, then stir in a pat of good butter and a pinch of flaky salt. It’s the kind of side dish that makes a Tuesday night roast chicken feel like a warm hug. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.

The Bottom Line

Cooking rice like pasta isn’t a gimmick or a slap in the face to tradition. It’s a practical, flexible trick that gives you fluffy grains, drops the arsenic a bit, and saves you from the occasional burnt-pot heartbreak. It won’t kick your rice cooker to the curb, but it’s a fantastic tool to keep in your back pocket—especially when you want rice that feels light, clean, and ready to mingle with other flavors.

Next time you’re boiling water for spaghetti, think about tossing in a handful of rice instead. You might be surprised at how such a small switch can crack open new possibilities in your cooking. And if your grandmother gives you that look, just tell her Rosa said it’s fine.