Honest-To-God Ragu
15 Comments
OK, I'll admit it: over the years, I've become a ragu snob.
It comes from too many marriages. Do you know this part? I've been married four times. Three times to Bruce. What am I, Elizabeth Taylor? Hardly, but he and I have had a commitment ceremony, a civil union, and now a legal marriage.
Before all that, I was married to someone else. Yes, it was a bad divorce. And yes, it was not my finest moment. And yes, her--yes, her--family came from Italy. They knew pasta and pasta sauces. So if I wanted to play in that league, I couldn't look like a rookie.
Solution: I bought Marcella Hazan's Classic Italian Cookbook in the mid-80s and worked my way through it. I know most people tell that story with Julia Child's books. Not me. I was Italy, not France.
I learned how to make a ragu, riffed off Hazan's to discover my own--and eventually made it for Bruce during one of our three marriages. Sometime in there. Don't ask me to be precise. As John Goodman's character says in RAISING ARIZONA, "So many social engagements, so little time."
The recipe has sort of morphed between us over the years. So I thought I'd give it a whirl here. Because you'll want to take a bath in it when you've made it. Or just put it on pasta. Your choice.
First, start with 4 to 4 1/2 pounds (1.8 to 2.0 kilograms) veal stew bones with meat still on them, pork neck bones, goat neck bones, or a combination of any of the above. In this version today, it's all veal. But a ragu from pork neck bones is a thing of beauty indeed.
Brown them on a large, lipped sheet tray in a preheated, 500F (260C) oven for about 20 minutes. You want good color on them. Use long-handled tongs to turn them once or twice.
Meanwhile, heat 2 tablespoons (30 ml) olive oil and 2 tablespoons (30 grams) unsalted butter in a large pot. When the butter has melted, add 1 chopped yellow onion, 1 cored and chopped bell pepper (Bruce used a yellow one this time), 2 chopped carrots, 2 sliced celery ribs, and 2 or 3 minced garlic cloves. Stir that around over the heat for a while, until the onions are soft, about 5 minutes.
Now add your spices: 2 tablespoons minced rosemary leaves, 1 tablespoon minced oregano leaves or 2 teaspoons dried oregano, 1 tablespoon minced marjoram leaves or 2 teaspoons dried marjoram, 1 teaspoon fennel seeds, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, and 1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg.
Stir these around over the heat for a few seconds, then dump in half a bottle of dry white wine. Don't go sweet. You really want a nice balance of sour and sweet in the wine so that the other flavors come through more intensely.
Bring that to a boil, scraping up any browned bits in the pot; then stir in three 28-ounce (794-gram) cans of crushed tomatoes and 7 cups (1.65 liters) water. Bring this to a furious boil over high heat.
Stir in the meat on the bones and any juices on that sheet tray. When the mixture comes back to a simmer, drop the heat to low and simmer very slowly, uncovered, for 8 hours, until thick like a pasta sauce and not soupy, reduced by almost half.
No lie: eight hours. And a slow simmer. Just a little beyond your ability to count the bubbles as they form. You've got time on your hands. Go finish off that bottle of wine.
After 8 hours, fish out the meat and bones. You need to work on this because some of the bones will have fallen apart. You don't want any left in the pot. Scrape the meat off the bones, chop it up, and return it to the pot to bubble away while you cook the pasta.
And that's it. Serious, serious ragu--8 to 10 servings worth. Grate a little Parmigiano-Reggiano over the bowls. You'll never look back, I promise. And it will unfit you for all other versions. It might even lead you to a fourth marriage. Or even a repeat engagement with your current. No promises. Just sayin'.
Reader Comments (15)
Wow, you're not messing about here, Mark! Eight hours! It does look superb - I read every word and am sitting here at 6.30am trying to figure how many ingredients I have on hand. Oh, and when I next have eight hours in the house so I can make sure it doesn't burn. ;-) Does it work if I bung it in the oven on a very low heat for a very long time instead?
Sorry, Celia, but the oven won't work as well. You need that constantly bubbling that creates the evaporation, that constant frisson of heat under it. But listen, you can do what we do: go do a zillion other things while it cooks. I write, work in the garden, finish off the wine. You know the drill.
M.
Got it, Mark. A lot of Chinese dishes are the same - have to be cooked over a hob, just not the same in the oven, where it tends to steam a bit too much. Need the evaporation to get all that reduction and lovely caramelly flavours. We will try this one weekend and let you know how we go! :) Thanks..
Yeah, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but what can I say? It just takes the long, open-kettle braise to make this magic happen.
I can't wait to see what happens if you make it. We'll be in California this weekend, so I'll be even closer to you!
M.
Slow cooker--yes or no?
Also, reading this made me miss my grandmother's sauce, which I haven't tasted in 33 years.
Nancy: Nope, no slow cooker. You can't get it to reduce as much as needed. This is serious weekend fare--put it on the stove in the morning and go work in the garden all day. Or something like that. It ain't a twenty-minute meal--that's for sure!
M.
First time checking in here for me...I am a slow cooker fool but you have just made me commit to what looks like 8 hours of pure bliss. To be followed by pure gastromical heaven.
P.S.
You have commitment over quantity where Liz was concerned (and I'm sure quality...I loved me some Liz but she sure picked some losers didn't she?)
Hi, Cheryl! Glad you checked in. Listen: you won't regret this ragu. Crazy stuff. But it is probably the very definition of "slow food."
M.
(And about Liz: well, the springs of the soul are best explored in the daylight. And with flippers.)
Mark: this is a great post. Your "scandalous" past only endears you to me more, natch. As for the ragu, I have made many over the years, but never an 8-hour one. This sounds wonderful, right up my alley. Can't wait to try it.
Scandalous? I wish! It was mostly just lawyers and shivering terror.
M.
So, this is my very favorite kind of recipe: the kind that takes a long time and makes your house smell amazing!
I'm in!
Then you have to make it and let us all know how it turns out!
M.
Oh yes, I had to introduce myself - one ragu snob to another - although I must find Marcella Hazan's Classic Italian Cookbook, I've probably been commitment ragu sins :) Great blog Mark - I'll be back for sure :)
Thanks, Anna. Look for the real classics, published in the 70s and 80s. The pasta with olives and thinly sliced beef strips is amazing.
M.
Aw, man, I was gonna say somethin' about pork neck bones, but you lost me on springs of the soul and flippers... now I'm enjoying a knowing chuckle.