Arundel Appetite Blog

There is just something about the brain and how it pairs a person’s history with a sound, a sensation, or a smell. Growing up in the rural northeast, we were never lacking a local recipe to try with each passing season. Fresh maple syrup in the early spring, poutine and beavertail pastry in the summer, fresh apple pie with a wedge of extra sharp cheddar cheese and hard-pressed cider in the fall, and soothing comfort food to tide you through the frigid winters. For me, the simple and homey plate of Nona’s spaghetti with homemade sauce from her summer garden takes me back like nothing else.

One of the first things I remember about visiting my grandmother’s house was the smell of the rich tomato sauce permeating the air. Hot, sticky summer days faded away in the cool hum of the central air as I watched Nona stir and simmer for hours. The ruby-red puree bubbled cheerfully and there was no finer flavor on Earth than dipping in crusty hunks of bread and sopping up the sheer magnificence from the garden.

Nona didn’t talk much about growing up as a girl in northern Italy. In fact, although she emigrated when she was 7, I never heard her speak the language at all. Her family was from the border country where it adjoined Austria, and my dad often joked that I was the mailman’s child from the blonde hair to the sky blue of my eyes. Nona would chase him around the house with her wooden spoon every time because I was the only granddaughter and hers to spoil absolutely rotten.

As the years passed and she got older and more forgetful, the heavenly sauce of my childhood changed to jarred marinara. It never held the same appeal for me, but out of love for my Nona I never let on. After she had quietly passed away in her sleep at the age of 97, my mom gave me a book of family traditions, and I was so overjoyed to find Nona’s full spaghetti dinner menu alongside other beloved comfort food. Complete with her memorable sauce recipe.

The important thing to remember is that the only acceptable sauce does not have meat in it. Ask a true Italian chef, and they will tell you. “Meat is a luxury, why would you destroy it by putting it with pasta? It should shine on its own accord and if it cannot? It shouldn’t be eaten at all.” To this day, as I make Nona’s recipe on my own stovetop, giving my beautiful blonde bambinos their own crusty bread to dip in the stockpot I hear her singing to herself over the steam. And it feels like love. The love that will transcend history.

I hope that you truly enjoy Nona’s red sauce. Use it to spoil your family over pasta, in your lasagnas (meatless of course), or jar it and savor it after the summer harvest has become a memory. I promise this will be a memory your own family will treasure well past your lifetime too. As for that other ¼ cup of Merlot? Well, the cook needs a kiss too. Buon gusto!

Ingredients:

• 12 fresh ripe Roma tomatoes, seeded and pureed
  
• ¾ cup good red wine (Merlot is best, to give the sauce body)
• 2 containers whole grape tomatoes
  
• 1 packet fresh basil, chiffonade
• 1 packet fresh oregano, stripped off the stalk and chiffonade
• 1 bunch fresh Italian parsley, chiffonade
• 8 cloves fresh garlic, minced
• 2 large red onions, diced
• 2 red bell peppers, diced
• 1 large zucchini, peeled then seeded, and cubed
• 4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil Salt and pepper to taste
• 2 ½ cups water, to be added gradually
  

Equipment:

• 12-quart stockpot
• Chef’s knife
• Wooden Spoon

Directions:

• Place the stockpot on your stove with the olive oil, set to medium-high heat.
• Add the diced onion, garlic, zucchini, peppers, and salt.
• Allow the vegetables to soften and take up the oil.
• Add the Merlot and cover it to help steam off the alcohol while you prepare the tomatoes.
• Puree the prepared Roma tomatoes in a food processor and gradually add to the stockpot.
• Add the herbs and grape tomatoes, stirring until well mixed.
• Cover the stockpot and simmer on medium-high heat until it begins to boil gently.
• Stir frequently to avoid burnt sugars on the bottom of the pot.
• Keep at a gentle boil for 20 minutes, and gradually add in 1 cup of the water (warmed is better to stir in more easily).
• Re-cover the pot and turn the sauce to medium, stirring occasionally.
• The longer it simmers, the sweeter it tastes.
• As it cooks down, gradually add in the remaining 1 ½ cup water and stir occasionally.

Serve with pasta of your choice, or just use it as a dipping sauce for a good hearty Italian bread right from the pot.