Bolognese: Once more with passion and feeling
When making bolognese make sure you either have on house-slippers or a slightly dumpy cardigan. If possible -both. Over that you will wear a floral apron. The apron must have a pocket so you can keep sweets, a packet of cigarettes, or maybe your rosary beads. (Whatever provides anxiety relief.) Also make sure you are wearing fancy jewelry. Man/woman -doesn’t matter. Be it a large ring, a gold chain, or your grandfather’s crucifix necklace that he wore in the war. I like to wear a bangle that belonged to my grandmother, a large gaudy cocktail ring that looks fake but isn’t, and gold hoops. You don’t dress WASPY for making this sauce because this sauce has flavor, feelings, and no chill. This isn’t mint sauce for lamb. You aren’t going to wear toast colored sweaters, and genteel floral frocks, while whispering in the pantry about Dad’s drinking but never addressing the subject. This sauce has meat, milk and wine -this isn’t the sauce from the poor times when you foraged for greens in vacant lots, and lived on a lot of cheap grains. You want to show the world that you are doing as well as this sauce is, so slap on the heavy gold watch. You save being understated and restrained for when you side-eye a relation for bringing non-fat frozen yogurt as “dessert” and you don’t kick them out of the house.
It is time to make the soffritto. All good things begin here. You heat your pot, add olive oil and some butter -I told you this is for the good times. This is a Sunday sauce when you can afford to be generous and celebrate. You chop up an onion, carrot, and celery very fine and add that to the pot and allow it to sweat and release the flavor. While that cooks you talk to your one cousin about their love life. It is never a simple subject but you listen. It is always a bit messy but you don’t judge because your cousin has listened to you when your love life has been a giant mess. You may tell them that they are with a bum and they know they are with a bum but they have to come to that moment on their own terms. You keep stirring and listening and maybe cackle over someone’s sexual performance. Now you add in the meat. You want a variety of things to give depth. Maybe some beef, lamb, veal or a bit of pork. People have opinions about that. Unless they are cooking the damn meal they can shut the hell up and maybe it is time to bring up some incident from forty years ago -there is time to do that with this sauce. The best slow-cooking dishes come from cultures that take the time to really appreciate a grudge or long-standing feud. Because they will never truly be over and why not get some of the emotions out while things simmer. You can talk to a sibling or another cousin about who said what and THAT is why Grandma doesn’t serve that one cake anymore at Christmas. And you know who got that one necklace? Because they lied about what happened at Auntie Carla’s wedding reception. No not her first husband -her second. Side note -if you find you have a bit too much meat on hand, make some meatballs. Add some oregano, sage and fennel seeds, an egg, a bit of garlic, salt and pepper and bread crumbs, cook those and then pop them in the freezer. You can look like you have your act together when you forgot that you agreed to bring a dish to a potluck and you have no time. Pull those out, add them to a red sauce or some rice and your Auntie Linda can’t say a word because she brought a vegetable plate from the grocery store.
Oh Christ the meat is all cooked, time to add in a cup of milk. A little more fat never hurt. This will make things so creamy, so don’t you dare use skim milk because you will be punished with terrible sauce and commentary from the entire family about how you ruined dinner and they won’t you forget this for the next forty years. Milk with fat is part of the social contract. Stop trying to wreck society. You want to stir and cook that down. Then you add a glass of white wine. Not a genteel little glass you sort of sip at some public event. I am talking about a glass full of wine. And use something nice. Put a glass into the pot, and then pour a glass for you and your cousin or whoever is in the kitchen to tell you how things are with the kids, the spouse, and their plans to sneak a dog into the house because they want a dog and their spouse is on the fence about it. You support this because pets are good. They are the ideal companions in a crisis. They keep their thoughts to themselves -other than asking for dinner. I mean… fish can be a little stand-offish but they are pleasant company, like a Norwegian.
Add some nutmeg to the sauce. A little. Enough to say, “That smells nice.” Then you add in a couple of cans/tins of tomatoes. Smash them against the side of the pot with your wooden spoon to help break them down. Then let everything simmer for a few hours. You want it low and slow. Now you have a few hours to do other things. You can make pasta, have a fight with a few people about politics, send racy photos to your lover, sit and listen to your children explain the details of an online game or the latest dank memes. You are free to experience the world -while occasionally checking the sauce and giving it a stir. Then it will be time to serve it up. Pasta should be al dente, there should be a salad, an antipasti, bread, something nice to drink and no mention of the fact that a certain relation in the family is seeing someone new and this time it is going to be amazing. You like this relation because they provide you with so many wonderful friends after yet another one of their relationships implodes. You tell yourself, “I am glad someone is eternally hopeful in this odd world.” Then you offer to grate a little Parmesan onto the bolognese.
