Butter is the Word of the Day

As soon as I read about this amazing tomato sauce, the first thing that went through my mind was a great big resounding DUH. I have been trying for YEARS to find a good basic tomato sauce, one that is good all by its lonesome or spiffed up with mushrooms, sausage, whatever. I’ve tried sauces with a mirepoix base, canned tomatoes, fresh tomatoes, olive oil, white wine, red wine, chicken stock, tomato paste, sugar, HOURS simmering on a stove top – you name it, I’ve tried it.
You know what I never tried? Butter. You know what makes this the best tomato sauce EVER? Butter. DUH, right? This sauce is so simple and so easy and so perfect and so obvious I just want to kick myself for not figuring it out sooner. There are three ingredients for the base: tomatoes, an onion, and butter. That’s it.

Now, if you’re like me and you wanna get fancy, you can add mushrooms that you’ve sautéed in butter until they’re soft and toasty and just rife with opportunity. And then you can add a little splash of marjoram to them – just to dress them up a little. And THEN you can pour in the most basic and delicious tomato sauce you’ll ever make, chop some fresh basil, grate some parmesan, and serve the whole thing over pasta.
I’m just dying to try this sauce with ground sausage, or garlic, or chili flakes, or all three, or... oh the possibilities are endless!

28 ounces whole peeled tomatoes from a can (San Marzano, if you can find them)
5 tablespoons (70 grams) unsalted butter
1 medium-sized yellow onion, peeled and halved
Salt to taste

Put the tomatoes, onion and butter in a heavy saucepan (it fit just right in a 3-quart) over medium heat. Bring the sauce to a simmer then lower the heat to keep the sauce at a slow, steady simmer for about 45 minutes, or until droplets of fat float free of the tomatoes. Stir occasionally, crushing the tomatoes against the side of the pot with a wooden spoon. Remove from heat, discard the onion, add salt to taste (you might find, as I did, that your tomatoes came salted and that you didn’t need to add more) and keep warm while you prepare your pasta.

Dinner for Two

Last week my friend Ian, a soon-to-be rockstar, graced me with his presence in exchange for a home-cooked meal. He wasn’t picky, he swore, but promised I’d win his heart with the classics…so I went with an amazing chicken meatball recipe that I’d already tried out once before to great success and decided I’d make spaghetti to go with it.

Chicken meatballs? I can hear the resounding “ick”s…but let me assure you that these are chicken meatballs of a different color. They’re moist and so flavorful and (mostly) healthy…we’ll get to that “mostly” in a minute. Ok, or now. Like most of the best meat balls you’ve had in your life, these babies pack some pork.

In this case, its chopped pancetta, which, while its sautéing to a crisp with onions and garlic will fill your kitchen with the most deliciously savory smell. In Venice, they use mortadella (the “mort” part of this particular form of pork is most likely in reference to the fact that its about 90% fat and thus is likely to interfere with your own mortality), and at your corner Italian joint its probably plain old ground pork.


To make up for the fact that these meatballs aren’t quite kosher, I used 100% ground breast meat which helps a little to garner back some healthy points. Anyways, they came out fantastically (if in need of a little salt) and I was busy polishing off my plate while Ian was more focused on polishing off a bottle of wine.
Also, I cheated this time and used store-bought sauce (gasp! The horror!) albeit Giorgio Baldi’s Arabiatta…because who can compete with Giorgio’s? But I have a new tomato sauce recipe that will knock your socks off so stay tuned…and make these meatballs in the meantime!

Chicken Meatballs
1 pound ground chicken
3 oz pancetta, chopped OR ground up in a food processor
1 tblspn olive oil
1 small onion, finely diced
1 clove garlic
3 tblspns chopped parsley
1 egg
1 cup of Italian bread torn up into little bitty pieces
1/3 cup milk
1 tblespn tomato paste
1 tspn salt
1 tspn pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

1. Saute pancetta, onions, and garlic in olive oil over medium heat until pancetta is browned and onions are soft and translucent. Cool (this is important because you’re going to be adding it to a mixture with raw egg so if its not pretty cooled down it will cook the egg and get yucky).
2. Meanwhile, soak the bread in the milk.
3. Mix chicken, salt, pepper, parsley, egg, tomato paste and milk-soaked bread in a large bowl.
4. Once the pancetta-onion-garlic mixture is cooled, add to the meat mixture and blend well (don’t be afraid to use your fingers!)
5. Make balls (should get about 12-14 of them depending on size) and place in a large baking dish or casserole dish without crowding.
6. Bake for 15-20 minutes (although mine took about 25 minutes because of my oven). Serve on their own, as sliders, appetizers, or (like me) with spaghetti and sauce.

The Pot Roast That Made Me Fat

It’s raining again out here in LaLa land. Storm #2 of four has just blown onto shore bringing with it torrential rains, a mesocyclone (small tornado of some sort?), and winds that broke the umbrella I stole from the doorstep of an unsuspecting stranger (kharma?). But not to fret! Storm #3 (due in tomorrow evening) is supposed to be even worse.
As much as I should hate the rain, working in a restaurant that relies heavily on its enchanting patio to bring in diners (and hence, my tips), I love love love the rain! Most of all because it’s a great excuse to stay in doors and to make delightfully meaty dishes like stews and pot roasts.

But usually these things come with a high caloric price tag and the weather that encourages their production also encourages those terribly sedentary habits of mine (ie not excercizing – a New Years resolution that is not going quite as planned….). So was I surprised when the dress I tried to wiggle into on Sunday didn’t quite (read: not a chance in hell) zip all the way up? I shouldn’t have been. But when that poor unwitting shop girl came to “check in” on my friend Britney and me in the dressing room I answered, with my face buried in Britney’s small Asian bosom, that her clothes made me want to kill myself.

But it wasn’t her fault! No, it was the pot roast’s fault. The pot roast that was slow cooked in wine and broth for four hours. With celery root, and parsley root, and thyme and all the other usual suspects. And devoured with two ridiculously good bottles of California Syrah (Qupe and Sherwin Family Vineyards).

The smell was one of those insanely rich and intriguing ones that made my roommates yell incredulously as they walked through the front door, “WHAT are you making?!”. And the pot roast was devoured in one sitting. The whole thing. I reduced the braising liquid down to a syrupy sauce that was just bursting with all the flavors that had gone into it. And the meat was so tender, no knife was required. Enjoy the recipe at your own risk!

Pot Roast with Winter Vegetables
1 3 lb pot roast- appropriate cut of beef
2 tblspns olive oil
1 small celery root, roughly cubed
1 large or 2 small parsley roots, chopped into hunks
1 onion, quartered
2 large carrots, chopped into hunks
1/2 cup of dry red wine
1 ½ cup of broth (I used chicken but you can use beef or vegetable also)
1 bay leaf
3-4 sprigs thyme
½ tspn whole black peppercorns
½ tspn salt

1. Start by heating the olive oil in a large thick-bottomed pot (I use my La Crouset aka the love of my life). Brown the roast on all sides.
2. Pour in the wine and scrape up all the brown bits on the bottom of the pot. Reduce to 1/3.
3. Pour in broth and all the vegetables, bay leaf, thyme, peppercorn, and salt.
4. Bring to a boil and then reduce to a simmer. Skim off any foam that collects on the surface. Cook, covered, for three to four hours, turning the roast over half way through.
5. Once you can start shredding meat off the top of the roast with a fork, its done. Take it out of the braising liquid and keep warm. Skim off the fat and remove all the vegetables (you can eat them if you’d like!). Bring to a boil and reduce down until the sauce is almost syrupy. Pour this over the roast and serve.