Though the annals of time, recipes have gained fame and notoriety by their origin. Invariably their birthplace is singularly tied to a curious attention-grabbing yarn, which at times is cloaked in mystery or even intertwined to a gallant tale.
Of course, it can also be as innocuous as a recipe passed down from generations of incomparable cooks. But at times it originates from a close friend and its got even greater meaning behind it.
This is the story of my best friend, who for the sake of anonymity I will name Juliet. Since the story is romantic and somewhat melancholy it is appropriate.
Roberto would fly in from Italy to NYC to make this sauce for Juliet during their long distance relationship. Being a superlative Italian cook and having learned all his culinary tricks from his nona and mama, this was one of his many culinary masterpieces, even though there wasn’t a proper name for this simple, yet exemplary sauce. The revolutionary flavor bomb here is the battuto(mirepoix), in this case sans carrots, because the culprit to the heartiness is the celery, onion and whole garlic cloves that braise together providing a robustness, creating tremendous complexity.
The smell permeating while cooking is mouthwatering; the end result is a sauce, so alive and divine, you’ll want to grab a spoon and shovel it into your mouth the moment it has finished cooking.
Please don’t have any consternation regarding the amount of olive oil used. That’s the well-kept the secret for this sauce’s success; an almost confit-like outcome. When it has finished braising, skim the oil into a glass jar reserving it for injecting umami into other dishes. Undoubtedly, the oil will be one of the reasons why this will be one of your go to recipes.
Roberto and Juliet went their separate ways due to unforeseen circumstances, but their love secretly remained steadfast, even though she lost track of his whereabouts. She recently reconnected with him, but sadly, soon thereafter she learned that he had succumbed to cancer. So, in tribute to Roberto and Juliet, here is his sauce.
2 28oz cans of whole San Marzano tomatoes – with their juices
1 cup of olive oil
1 whole head of garlic – cloves peeled and left whole
1 large sweet onion – rough chopped
4 stalks of celery – cut into 1” slices
3 – 4 basil stalks with their leaves attached
Kosher salt, fresh cracked pepper
1 heaped TBSP of sugar
In a working bowl add the canned San Marzanos and remove the hard center core, as that doesn’t cook down. In a large saucepan, heat the oil and add the chopped onion and celery. Sweat for a few minutes and add the garlic cloves. Cook the veg for about 3-4 minutes on medium high. Add the two cans of tomatoes. Simmer for about 10 minutes, remove from the heat and mash the tomatoes gently down with a potato masher. Return the sauce to the heat, add the basil stalks, sugar and seasonings and braise over low heat, stirring often for about one hour. Skim the oil that has accumulated on the top and reserve for other uses. Featured – Roberto sauce with fresh fettuccini noddles, chopped fresh basil and fresh Parmegiano-Reggiano.
NOTE
It’s indeed perplexing why this simple, rustic sauce is so iconoclastic in flavor. Whether it’s the braised celery or the sweet, whole garlic cloves that become creamy pillows of nutty sweetness, which you’ll definitely fight over like a dog over a bone.
When I was given this recipe, I asked, why crush the whole tomatoes beforehand? Answer: because cooking them whole for a few minutes makes them release their sweetness. The potato masher makes for the perfect tool here and the versatility of this sauce is endless. Pair it with shrimp and seafood; grilled fish or pork chops. It’s amazing with meatloaf and meatballs; served just as it is over pasta; for lasagna layering and as a pizza base. Even as a dipping sauce with crusty bread as an appetizer.
