ragu bolognese

Ages ago, a publisher sent me this fantastic book in hopes that I’d do a review or a giveaway. I had every intention of trying a few recipes, snapping some photos, and then putting it up for grabs to you lovely readers. But you see, I kind of can’t let go of it. It’s pretty much become my pasta bible.

Why am I so attached to it? Well, first of all: it’s pretty. Instead of glossy shots of steaming noodles and pots of sauces, there are graphic color blocks in the shapes of different pastas.

Some of them are downright framable.

But the second and most important reason I love this book is that it tells you how to make nearly every type of pasta and every type of sauce known to man (or at least to Italians). You can follow an entire recipe (homemade noodles from scratch, along with its recommended paired sauce), or take it one piece at a time (I’ve been experimenting with sauces and *gulp* buying dry noodles at the store).

I’ll try my hand at homemade gnocchi and tagliatelle one of these days. But for now, I’ll continue making this ragù bolognese like a broken record. It’s that good.

It starts with three meats: pork, beef, and pancetta (I’ve been substituting unsmoked bacon and it works just fine).

Next: onion, diced tomatoes, milk, olive oil, butter, white wine, celery, carrots, garlic and chicken stock (not pictured).

A word of warning about this sauce: it’s not a quick, throw-together at the last minute type of meal. Make it when you’ve got some time to attend to it. The results will be well worth it. Plus, it makes a very large batch and you can freeze half for later.

Begin by dicing the celery, carrots, onion, garlic and pancetta (or bacon).

Saute with the butter and olive oil for 10-15 minutes until the vegetables become tender.

Add the meat in a few batches, taking the time to break up any chunks with your spatula. I use ground meat (unless there is an extremely short line at the butcher counter, in which case I will purchase minced) and it helps if you break up the pieces as small as possible.

Fry for 15-20 minutes, until some crispy browned bits appear.

Deglaze with the wine, then add the milk, chicken stock, tomatoes and salt and pepper. Simmer gently for 4 hours.

While cooking, the sauce is going to look something like this. Do not be afraid. It’s more of an oil-based sauce (I know, I know—when you think ragu you think thick and tomato-ey, but this is a traditional version), and it’s not the prettiest to look at, but boy does it make up for it in taste.

When the 4 hours is up, adjust the seasoning one last time. Cook your favorite noodles (the recipe calls for tagliatelle but I had fettuccine on hand. I’m probably breaking some sacred Italian rule of sauce pairing but hey, I’m a rebel) and saute with a little bit of the sauce and a tiny bit of pasta water.

This may be the perfect Sunday supper. A warm, crusty bread, a green salad, and a steaming bowl of bolognese with parmesan on top? Heaven.

Enjoy. And if you’re looking to expand your pasta repertoire, I can’t recommend this book enough. And it’s not because I got it for free—everything I have made from it has been genuinely fantastic. And that’s why I can’t bear part with it.

-RDG

Below is the original recipe, and here are my substitutions:

  • ground meat, not minced
  • beef, not veal
  • unsmoked bacon in place of pancetta
  • no chicken livers (duh)
  • fettuccine instead of tagliatelle (I have also used pappardelle and rigatoni; both of which work well)
  • I find that it serves more like 10 than 8. I like to freeze half of the sauce and we get two dinners out of the other half (this is Lucy’s favorite pasta, by the way).

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Tagliatelle al Ragù Bolognese from The Geometry of Pasta by Caz Hildebrand & Jacob Kenedy

This sauce is a million miles from the “Bol” that we Brits like to serve with pasta, which is about as close to the real McCoy as our chile con carne is to a true version. It is orange, not red; it is more oil-than water-based; it is delicate, creamy, aromatic and subtle. This is one of many recipes where the cooking technique is as important to the finished dish as the ingredients–buy best-quality pancetta and Parmesan, spend as much money as you can afford on the eggs and flour for your pasta (or the packaged tagliatelle), and the few pennies remaining on the other ingredients. There are words to describe how good this is, but they shouldn’t appear in print…

Serves 8

  • 1 3/4 pounds dried, or 2 1/4 pounds fresh, tagliatelle
  • 1/2 c grated Parmesan, to serve

Ragù Bolognese

  • 1 lb minced pork
  • 1 lb minced veal (or beef)
  • 3 1/2 oz chicken livers (optional)
  • 1 carrot
  • 2 celery stalks
  • 1 medium onion
  • 4 garlic cloves
  • 7 tbsp butter
  • 4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
  • 3 1/2 oz pancetta (not smoked), cut in strips
  • 1 1/3 c white wine
  • 2 1/4 c milk
  • 14 oz canned tomatoes, chopped
  • 1 c beef or chicken stock (optional; otherwise an additional 1 c milk)

It is worth having the butcher mince the meats coarsely (1/3 inch thick) for the improved texture. Peel and dice the carrot, dice the celery, chop the onion, and slice the garlic.

Take a very wide frying pan (12″) and melt the butter in the oil over a medium heat. Add the vegetables and pancetta along with a good pinch of salt, and saute for 10-15 minutes until softened. Increase the heat to high and add the meat in 4-5 additions, allowing time for any water to evaporate, stirring and breaking up any lumps with a spoon. After the last addition, wait until the pan starts to sputter slightly, then decrease the heat to medium and fry, stirring occasionally, until the meat has browned with a fair portion of crispy bits—about 15-20 minutes. Deglaze with the wine, then transfer to a saucepan along with the milk, tomatoes and stock as well as a good grinding of pepper and more salt to taste. Cook at a very low simmer, uncovered, for about 4 hours until the sauce is thick, more oil-than water-based (add a little stock or water if it dries too much or too quickly). When ready, the liquid will be as thick as heavy cream and, stirred up, the whole should be somewhat porridgy. Adjust the seasoning one last time.

The addition of bay and/or dried red pepper flakes along with the meat is heretical, if not displeasing.

Heat the ragù in a frying pan with a little pasta water. Drain the boiled pasta when marginally undercooked, then add to the sauce to finish cooking for about 20 seconds, with some butter. Serve with grated Parmesan on top.

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pasta with creamy roasted vegetable sauce

Have you ever been doing a television interview and been all like, “I just try my best and work really hard. I’m just so lucky to have such great fans. This one’s for YOU, fans!” Then you blush and do your best princess wave, pick up your air guitar and start the opening licks to Uptown Girl. No?

Just me then. Alrighty.

This week has been the sort of humbling, mom-in-the-trenches, peanut butter in your hair kind of situation that would bring Donna Reed to her knees. It’s been so exhausting that its driven me to daydreams about being some sort of rockstar that covers Billy Joel hits. In them I have my own dressing room equipped with bottles of champagne and silk robes and roses. I have my own personal makeup artist and hairdresser. Matt Lauer comes to personally escort me to the Today Show stage in Rockefeller Plaza.

And then I come to, realize I’m standing in the bathroom applying a god-awful shade of mauve eyeshadow, trip over a keyboard shaped like a cat and bang my knee on the toilet.

One of few great (and non-imaginary) things that emerged from this trying week was an incredible pasta sauce. It’s not glamorous. It’s not difficult and it won’t win any blogging awards for creativity or inventiveness. But it is creamy, satisfying, and a healthy weeknight meal for the whole family.

Since my successful foray into vegetarian cuisine, I’ve been anxious to work with roasted peppers again. There’s something about their sweetness, the flavor that roasting brings out in them that I can’t get enough of. Raw? Won’t touch ‘em. But roasted until they’re sweet and tangy? Perfection.

Throw them together with two of my other favorite vegetables—zucchini and carrots—and you’ve got a winning combination that makes a killer pasta sauce. It’s thick enough to coat tube-shaped noodles (my favorites), and makes a big enough batch that you could get two dinners out of it, or freeze half for a hectic night.

So the next time you’re daydreaming about having your own personal assistant who will peel grapes while you relax on a chaise lounge, wake yourself and whip up this sauce. It won’t clean the blackberry jam off the ceiling for you, but it will solve that whole “what’s for dinner” dilemma with ease.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a rousing rendition of Just the Way You Are to sing. My public awaits.

-RDG

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Pasta with Creamy Roasted Vegetable Sauce

Prep Time: 20 min Cook Time: 55 min

Tube shaped pastas work well with this thick, chunky sauce. It would also be a wonderful in lasagna! Makes approximately 5 cups of sauce. Serves 8-10.

  • 3 sweet bell peppers (red, yellow or orange)
  • 1 small zucchini
  • 2 carrots, peeled
  • 2 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 tsp oregano
  • 1 tsp basil
  • salt & pepper
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tbsp butter
  • 6oz can tomato paste
  • 29 oz can tomato sauce
  • 1 c milk
  • 1/4 c grated parmesan cheese, plus more for topping
  • 1 lb or more of your favorite pasta

Preheat oven to 450F. Dice the peppers, zucchini and carrots into 1/2″ pieces. Toss with olive oil, oregano, basil and season generously with salt and pepper. Spread onto a baking sheet lined with foil and roast for 30 minutes, stirring once during cooking. Set aside.

Melt butter in a large saute pan over medium heat. Add garlic and saute 2 minutes or until garlic becomes aromatic. Add the tomato paste and saute 2 minutes more, stirring often. Whisk in the tomato sauce, milk and roasted vegetables. Simmer over medium-low heat for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally (you may need to partially cover pan with a lid or splatter guard—sauce will be thick). Stir in cheese and season with salt and pepper to taste. Toss with your favorite pasta and serve topped with parmesan cheese if desired.

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gemelli with turkey spinach meatballs

On one rainy Monday, after feeing my daughter a lunch of her favorite pasta (Annie’s O’s with soy “meat”balls), I was feeling a little guilty. I had just fed my toddler something out of a can. Three days in a row. And she loved it. And even though the ingredients are all organic and things I can pronounce, I set out to make my own version. I wanted something Husband and I could eat and enjoy with her, but that would still be easy for little toddler fingers to pick up and place in her little toddler mouth.

What resulted was not only incredibly tasty, but something I felt good about eating and serving to my little one year-old garbage disposal. You should make this too, whether it’s for you or for your little eater. Or both.

To begin, you’ll need grated parmesan cheese, one egg, freshly ground pepper, whole grain breadcrumbs (or regular ones—Italian style, in either case), and garlic salt.

Also prep some chopped spinach. If you’re using the frozen kind, squeeze all of the water out.

Pile one pound of ground turkey, your spinach, cheese, breadcrumbs, garlic salt, pepper, and egg in a bowl. Mix well with your hands until the mixture is uniform…

…and then shape into balls. I made mine small and cooked them in two batches.

Brown the outsides, and then add enough water to the pan to go about 1/4 of the way up the sides of the meatballs.

Cover and let simmer until those tiny balls are cooked all the way through.

Remove them from the pan and let them rest on paper towels while you prep the pasta.

Begin by pouring one large can of tomato sauce into a large pot. Bring to a boil.

For the pasta, you can use whatever type you’d like: spiral, bow tie, orichette, macaroni, or even long noodles like fettucini or spaghetti. I used these tiny spirals called gemelli because they’re easy for little fingers to pick up.

Pour the pasta into the boiling tomato sauce and cook until the pasta is al dente and the mixture has thickened. It should take between 20 and 25 minutes with lots of stirring—those little noodles love to stick to the bottom of the pan.

Almost there…

Perfect. Add one tablespoon of butter…

…1/2 cup of milk…

…and 1/4 cup more of grated parmesan.

Mix well, add your meatballs, and presto—kid-friendly, adult-approved pasta that the whole fam-damily will love.

You can make it pretty by garnishing with a little fresh parsley and a sprinkling of cheese. No one will ever know this stuff is for kids by looking at it.

Or by tasting it, for that matter. By cooking the noodles in the tomato sauce, they’re given a rich, hearty flavor.

And the meatballs? Oh, the meatballs. I don’t know if I’ll ever make meatballs without spinach again. Not only does it give this dish a healthy boost, but that lovely green veggie lent some gorgeous flavor to these suckers. I may or may not have eaten two right out of the pan.

Or five.

This recipe makes a huge batch, too. Perfect for a big family dinner, leftovers for the whole week, or for freezing for a rainy (or busy) day.

Make this soon for your little monsters. Or your hungry stomach.

-RDG

Gemelli with Turkey Spinach Meatballs

  • 1 pound ground turkey
  • 1/2 cup Italian-style breadcrumbs (whole grain, if you can find them)
  • 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese divided, plus more for garnish
  • 1 egg
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic salt
  • 1 package frozen chopped spinach, defrosted and squeezed dry
  • 1 package Gemelli pasta (or whatever type you feel like using)
  • 1 large can tomato sauce
  • 1/2 cup milk
  • 1 tablespoon butter

To make the meatballs, combine turkey, breadcrumbs, 1/4 cup of the parmesan cheese, spinach, egg, pepper and garlic salt in a large bowl. Mix with your hands until the mixture is uniform and then roll 1-2 tablespoon amounts into balls. Brown half of the meatballs in a large nonstick skillet, and then add enough water to the pan to come 1/4 up the sides of the meatballs. Cover and simmer until meatballs are cooked through, about 5 minutes. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towels. Repeat with remaining meatballs.

Pour tomato sauce into a large pot and bring to a boil. Add the pasta, reduce heat to medium, and cook, stirring often, until pasta is al dente—about 20-25 minutes. Stir in the milk, butter, and remaining 1/4 cup cheese. Gently stir in meatballs. Serve with a sprinkling of cheese and garnish with fresh parsley. Serves 8.

normalcy, or something like it

Because it’s monday, and because I am so worn out that I can’t even muster the energy to hunt for my slippers to warm my freezing feet, and because the coffee just won’t seem to make itself, today’s post is not about food. And I’m sorry. Sorting through hundreds of pictures, cropping them, making them look like they were taken in a kitchen whose light does not resemble a catacomb’s, and trying to describe to you how to make a pasta dish or braised short ribs just seems like an insurmountable task. So instead, because I love ya and because you’re the only person reading this, I thought I’d share a little about what’s going on in the RDG household.

If you’ve been around lately, you know that Husband went under the knife. He’s now on the mend and feeling fine. But the surgery and the week that followed left me a little off-kilter, a little exhausted, and a little overwhelmed. I couldn’t catch my breath even for a moment, and I wasn’t even the one who had just been cut open. As soon as I was beginning to regain my emotional balance toward the end of the week, a family situation arose that completely surprised me and left me feeling sucker-punched. I’m still reeling, not quite sure what to make of the whole thing. Let’s just say, without going into the gory details, that it has not been a quality week for RDG. I’m one sob-fest away from packing up this joint and moving to Bermuda. If I don’t post anything tomorrow, Husband, Lucy and I have legally changed our names and are hiding out east of Florida.

Okay, now onto the happy stuff. Several things are not crappy about life right now. Let’s make a list.

1. My daughter has decided that this is her most photogenic expression. I’m okay with it.

2. Braised short ribs. I dreamed about them last night. Literally.

This is one of the recipes I couldn’t bring myself to write about today. I’m a tease and I’m sorry. But I’ll have it ready later this week, I swear.

3. I planted a gazillion herbs. Lemon thyme, dill, lavender, chives—anything I like to cook with, I planted. Now if my brown thumb will step aside so I can keep these suckers alive, I would greatly appreciate it.

Oh, and my hand is not sweaty in this picture. It’s wet from washing the thyme. I promise.

4. Little Bear pushes around her little bee all day long. Sometimes I strip her down and watch her do it in her diaper because diaper butts (and half-naked babies) are the cutest thing in the world.

Moms? Am I right, or am I right?

5. I made this pasta dish with turkey and spinach meatballs that I thought Lucy would love—sort of a grownup Spaghettios. She didn’t dig it as much as I did. But I really, really, really dug it. So the bar was set high. I’ll post the recipe this week so you too can make your “kids” a healthy pasta dish. And if it’s for you, that’s okay too.

6. My daughter and my husband have the same hair. And it makes me smile.

These two are my saving grace. When everything goes pear-shaped, they’re right there to make it apple-shaped again. Or banana-shaped. Or whatever fruit is very, very symmetrical.

Happy monday!

-RDG