I have been trying to perfect my Bolognese recipe for years. Actually it is the marinara sauce that is the most important key in my opinion. Until recently that part of le sauce was decent but not good enough for me. My favorite Bolognese experiences can be counted on one hand: a restaurant in East Hampton called Robert’s, and another Italian restaurant called Gino’s in Manhattan. Sadly (I’m heartbroken actually) Gino’s has closed after 50 years (or more). Gino’s was the kind of place where one lunched, but one dressed well, and wasn’t surrounded by hipsters, and youngsters. In fact, it was one of those great places where nobody really looked around at the other tables. Everyone enjoyed their meal and seemed intent on their company. Gino’s was a restaurant where you felt it wasn’t only okay to order a martini at lunch, it was mandatory. I suppose a Manhattan would have been good as well. Anyway, I have fond memories of their Bolognese and their Alfredo sauce. OH and yes, the REAL waiters, and the fabulous red wall paper with flying zebras. Sigh.
So until recently I couldn’t get my marinara quite right and then a friend turned me on to Marcella Hazan’s impossibly easy recipe that is so damn good it makes you want to hit yourself in the head…because it is so damn EASY.
Over the holidays I saw a lot of old friends and spent time with my family. At each “function” (or dis-function) I noticed that everyone has their own way of handling social situations. Everyone has their own idea of how much garlic should be used in ANY cooking situation, and most feel that their “way” is the right way. I can’t say that anyone I came across had a great selling technique for their way of life. I can’t say that everyone was ecstatic with joy; I can only say that everyone is slugging away at the kitchen of life (corn) and trying their best.
My recipe for life may not work for you, in fact it might make you angry or annoyed. Your recipe for life might seem like sheer lunacy to me, but none of us are perfect…even in the kitchen. Mistakes are how I’ve made some of my best meals, mistakes are how I’ve discovered I’m a narcissist magnet! But I keep trying. I still think my “stop, drop & roll” technique is a great metaphor for life and will try to sell it to you if we meet on the street. Then again, I might just tell you how to make the marinara sauce or tell you a bad joke.
OH THE HORROR!!!
Happy New Year!