I started making spaghetti sauce many years ago. The Hunka-hunka loves it thick and cooked on the stove for hours. I’m not a fan of that style as much as I used to be. I like a fresher flavor, lighter. G wants the meat to sauce ratio to be about 50/50; I’d be fine if there were no meat in the sauce at all. What to do, what to do? I’m not an Italian grandmother no matter how much he wants to pretend.
We have learned the art of compromise here at the cabin. Today it was G’s turn to have the sauce he loves. I’m not sure when I became less than delighted with it. It does seem odd how our taste buds change over the years. This sauce was the base for half the things I would make my family, everything from lasagna to stuffed shells. Now, I often pretend I don’t hear G when he requests it. My bad. I’ve got a bit of a bug so G did the actual mixing enabling me to write down what went into the Dutch oven.
1 to 1 1/2 pounds hamburger
1 to 1 1/2 pounds Italian sweet sausage
1 large onion, chopped
2-29 ounce cans of tomato sauce
1-12 ounce can tomato paste
1-28 ounce can diced tomatoes
1 teaspoon dried garlic
S & P
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon dried basil
1/2 cup sugar
Brown the hamburger, sausage and onions. Add the tomato sauce, tomato paste and diced tomatoes. Add all the spices and sugar. Simmer for several hours on low without the lid, tasting periodically. Season up to the last minute.
* From the Recipe Box:
If I told you I actually use about a 1/4 cup each of the dried oregano and basil would you go no way? I do, but I’m always afraid to tell anyone for fear that they will hurl. I love the intense flavor they add. Would it be as good with fresh? I don’t think so. I do rub the heck out of the loose leaves to release the oils.
The sauce freezes beautifully. It makes a wonderful base for lasagna.
You want the sugar; it mellows out the tomatoes.
and remember: Focus on the powerful, euphoric, synchronistic, beautiful, “fuck yes” parts of life and the Universe will keep giving them to you. Big kiss, Lynn