Ragù Bolognese

Tomatoes, meat, and rich aromatics are lovingly simmered for hours to produce the meat sauce of your dreams. 

I have wanted to write about this ragù for a long time because it is truly one of my favorite things to eat. I like it so much that it's difficult to find the words appropriate to describe it. It's savory, it's complex, it's satisfying. People love it so much because it finds the perfect balance between sweetness, saltiness, acidity and umaminess. The tomatoes end up melting into the meat and the meat ends up tender and flavorful thanks to the rich aromatic base (mirepoix!). In my family we are rewarded with this legendary pasta only on birthdays and other special occasions, meaning that we usually only ate it twice a year growing up! Now that I'm a grownup and can do what I want, I make it more often: I aim for once a month. 

The reason, however, that we ate ragù so seldom as kids is that it takes at least five hours from start to finish to produce a star sauce like this one. People can never quite put their finger on that flavor that makes this sauce so good. "It's time" I tell them, "that flavor you're tasting is the hard-earned result of my loving patience". And patience is truly not my forte. I am, in fact, famously impatient. When I make brownies I sit on the floor by the oven and stare at them through the little window knowing they will likely never be done if I continue to open the door every twenty seconds to check on them. I often find myself the first one in the car screaming out the window for everyone else to hurry up and get their sorry, slow, selves out of the house because we have places to be. And it was I who was appalled to find out that un-soaked beans still take over half an hour to cook in the instant pot. "It's an instant pot, not a magic pot", my mom told me over the phone as I guffawed. I suppose the oven, along with my loving familiars, struggles to keep up with me. But while I don't particularly regret the undercooked brownies or time I have spent alone in parked cars, I have to concede that sometimes, mostly in the case of slow cooked meat, you've just got to wait.

This wonderful recipe comes from Marcella Hazaan, one of my culinary heroes. I've changed very little from the original recipe. Some versions call for a combination of ground pork and beef; I prefer it with a few ounces of pancetta or strips of bacon. I like the salty-savory layer of flavor that's added. Hazaan notes in the recipe that only meat with a high fat content should be used. She also notes that, although most people are accustomed to it, meat sauce is never served with spaghetti in Bologna. I went for a slightly thicker linguine but tagliatelle or pappardelle are traditional.

Ragù  Bolognese

Adapted from Marcella Hazaan's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking

Total time: at least 4-5 hours, active time: 1 hour

Serves 4-6 people

Ingredients:

1 pound ground beef

2 rashers bacon or 2 oz pancetta 

2 tbsp butter + 1 tbsp for tossing

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup  finely chopped onion (1 small onion)

2/3 cup finely chopped celery (2-3 large stalks)

2/3 cup finely chopped carrot (1-2 large carrots)

2/3 cup whole milk

1 cup dry white wine

1 tsp salt

A pinch of ground nutmeg

1 28 oz can whole peeled tomatoes

1/2 cup finely grates parmigiano reggiano + more for serving

1 pound linguine or any pasta you like

Method:

Cook bacon or pancetta in a large saucepan over medium heat. When cooked through, remove to a cutting board and cut into small pieces. If using pancetta chop before cooking. Remove all but 1 tbsp of rendered fat from the pan

Return pan to the heat. Add 2 tbsp olive oil and butter along with onion, carrot, and celery. Add bacon back to the pan. Cook until vegetables are soft and onions are translucent.

Add ground beef, add salt and nutmeg, break up the beef with a spoon and mix it into the vegetables. When meat is is just loosing its pinkness add the milk. 

Simmer until the milk is completely evaporated, stirring often, then add the wine.

Simmer until the wine is completely evaporated then add the tomatoes and their juices. Break up the tomatoes with a wooden spoon. 

Bring to a simmer and reduce heat to low. You want the sauce to be at the lightest simmer possible. 

Simmer, on very low, for about 4 hours, stirring occasionally. If the sauce begins to dry out, add water, 1/2 cup at a time, as needed. 

To serve, cook pasta till al dente, reserving 1/2 cup pasta water.

Drain pasta and add it to the sauce along with the remaining tablespoon of butter, reserved pasta water and grated cheese. Toss to combine. Serve immediately.