Red Sauce

When I was a kid, red sauce was everywhere. Every holiday:  Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving.  Every Sunday. Every funeral, communion and baptism was celebrated at a red sauce joint with flocked wallpaper and some smelly old man playing "Volare" on an accordion. The grownups would drink bad chianti and my cousins and I would make sculptures out of butter packets.
 
In fact, our red sauce joint was so authentic, the parking lot even landed a role in a famous movie:

Is "Layla" playing in your mind?

There is a long history to Italian American red sauce with meat. It really is its own thing, invented by immigrants who wanted to show off and be as generous and lush as possible.  There are regionalisms throughout the states and individual traditions. It's a standard story that people going back to the Old Country for the first time are taken aback that red sauce isn't red sauce "over there." 

People will tell you that red sauce is bolognese. IT IS NOT. This is bolognese:

See? It's dry and carroty with a lot of wine. Or, rather, this is bolognese:

 

This is red sauce:

 

 

Here's the thing. Your kids don't want to hang out with a prickly, self-absorbed director with existential angst. Your kids want to take a ride with Uncle Paulie, knock over a 7-11 and go to AC for the weekend. Uncle Paulie has his merits. 

 

I didn't eat red sauce for years. Couldn't take it, couldn't stand the sight of it. Then I started itching for it, now and again. It does have its purpose. It's cheap as hell, freezes great, always dependable and always ready for action.

 

Now, there are as many variants as there are stars in the sky. Written recipes usually specify San Marzano tomatoes hand-nutured by the Blind Sisters of Saint Fiammentina and oregano dried by the Adriatic breezes. Great. We're going with whatever's 5/$5 this week at the supermarket. I usually buy a selection of whole tomatoes and crushed.  Because the tomatoes, my friends, are not the key ingredients.

 

These are:

 

 

Yup, pork neck bones. I've read that the faint of heart will use pork chops.  C'mon now.  Don't waste a decent piece of meat when all you need are bones and crap. 

The sauce has three layers: top, middle, foundation. The top flavor is going to be the tomatoes and the spice, the middle is going to be the ground meat and the wine, and the foundation is neck bones. It doesn't taste the same without it, it has no depth, it's weak, it's not substantial.

(ETA:  Ms. Texas reports that pork neck bones are not readily available in her nabe. Pork knuckles are an authentic alternate, I should've mentioned that before. Knuckles are used in some houses, I grew up with neck bones.  It's a house-to-house variant). 

Now, I add another ingredient to my base. You thought the neck bones were bad? Ha ha ha ha ha.

Oh, yes, chicken livers. I am sparing you the interior view.  A couple, diced, is going to make that foundation really strong.  Add a smokey wonderfulness. Just another shade. It's worth it. Yeah, I eat foie gras too when I can get it. Liver is magic. It's just going to melt away in the sauce.

So this is how we start.  All the neck bones, a couple diced livers and a couple pounds or so of ground meat (sometimes I buy the pork/veal/beef blend -- sometimes I add extra ground beef, whatever you're feeling) go into a giant pot to be browned.
  

Diced onions, celery, pulverized carrots and about 5-6 diced cloves garlic go in after.  A few bay leaves. A few teaspoons of oregano. Then a cup to a cup and a half of white wine.  When all that cooks out, you add your 5 cans of tomatoes and tomato variants. 

This is a mid-simmer shot.
 

If you want sausage, you can add that too.  I would advise from past experience not going too nuts on the hot sausage. This is going to be simmering for hours and the hot will make the whole sauce substantially spicier. 

Finalmente!

This is an all-day sauce.  You know you have sauce when it's brick red and the meat is falling of the bones. 

Red Sauce

5 cans of tomatoes, a mix of whole and crushed
4 tbsp olive oil
2 medium onions, diced
4-5 sticks celery, diced
5-6 carrots, pulverized
6-8 garlic cloves diced
1 package of pork neck bones
2-3 chicken livers (optional, but do it!)
1 lb ground beef
1 lb beef/pork/veal mix
Bay leaves
3 tsp dried oregano
1/4 tsp dried red pepper flakes
1 cup white wine, or red, you know, if it's opened

1.  Add all meat to a giant pot.  Brown well.

2.  Reduce to low-medium heat and add diced celery, onions, carrots, garlic and olive oil.  Mix, and then add  4-5 bay leaves and the oregano. Add the red pepper flakes. Stir for a few minutes and add wine.  Let all the wine cook out.

3.  Add tomatoes. Whole can be put through a food mill, a food processor or smashed at random with a potato masher in the sauce.  Your choice.

4.  Keep on a low flame for the whole day. Stir and taste often. Contemplate life. Read a poem. Take out the trash.

5.  After 5-8 hours, the melange will become Sauce.  It will be brick red and the meat will be falling off the neck bones. Taste, add salt and additional oregano as you like.

6.  The sauce is shockingly dependable frozen, I remove the bones for easier storage.