Friday Mar 29

GattozziBryan Gattozzi earned an MFA in poetry from McNeese State University, where he was awarded the 2006 John Wood Poetry Prize.  He also teaches English Composition at Bowling Green State University.  He travels between New Orleans and Cleveland, Ohio most summers looking for the perfect roadside plate lunch.  The current leader is in Amite City, Louisiana.  Interstate 55.  Exit 46 westbound.  Ardillo’s Restaurant and Grocery.  For more of his food writing follow him on Twitter @Bryan_Gattozzi or follow his blog.

---------


Authentic Italy by Bryan Gattozzi

 

No other ingredient makes me more nostalgic about my childhood, college years, and adulthood than the tomato.  Proust had the petite madeleine.  I have the tomato, base ingredient of my grandmother’s Italian gravy.

My grandmother unknowingly taught me a few simple kitchen tricks involving tomato sauce that define her brand of Italian cuisine.  People always told her to open a restaurant, write a cookbook, or write down the recipe for her sauce.  She still doesn’t understand why anyone would want a card with exact directions.  Why wouldn’t they want to cultivate their own?  If they married into the family, okay.  Italians are like that.  But for her to just give away what took years to create . . . no way.

In Goodfellas Henry Hill gets busted and snitches.  You’d think he’d be happy to be alive and sunning in Parts Unknown, America.  Instead he bitches that his take-out pasta tastes like “egg noodles and ketchup”.  When I moved to Lake Charles, LA for graduate school this is exactly how I felt.  I needed to bring Cleveland to cajun country and show my Louisiana friends a tomato sauce that tastes like a tomato is boring.

On a graduate student’s salary and workload, I had to be economical with my money and time.  I didn’t have all day Saturday to make a sauce and all day Sunday to sit and watch, add some garlic, reevaluate, add more basil, then stir, then taste, then stir . . . so I made it simple--Which brings up my grandmother’s tomato sauce kitchen tricks that can bring authentic Italy to your kitchen.

  1. Take your time, unless you don’t have any: I’m not big on math or logic, but this credo is fact.  Good food takes time.  Simmer your sauce as long as possible, but don’t succumb to store bought sauce, even if all you have is an hour or two.  Let your sense of smell and taste guide how much garlic, basil, etc. You add when in a pinch--but be careful and . . .
  2. Streamline: Using a lot of herbs, especially when you’re short on time, can make sauce bitter and unsalvageable.  If you overindulge a little even adding water can’t save it.  To give your sauce great flavor add sausage (any store brand will work) but make your own meatballs.  You can cook them in a huge batch days or weeks before needing them for your sauce.  My grandmother always has a few dozen meatballs in the freezer.  They make a great snack--and are there any time you want to make a quick sauce.  Trying to make meatballs and sauce at the same time is a bit messy and overwhelming.  Use time and modern appliances to your advantage.  But make sure both the meatballs and sausage contain . . .
  3. Fennel: The defining characteristic of how to give tomato sauce a thick, rich flavor is fennel.  I’m not down with thin sauce.  It’s supposed to stick to the noodle, not the plate.  But I don’t like huge chucks of tomato in my sauce either.  Adding fennel seed to your meatball recipe (when you think you’ve added too much--keep going, trust me) will do two things: it will give your meatball some added texture and your sauce flavor without the risk of being over garlicky or bitter.  Add garlic, basil, etc to your meatball recipe and let the meatballs do the flavoring.  Once you’re done simmering and spicing there’s one more way to accentuate your sauce . . .
  4. Respect your pasta: I’ve already expressed my hatred for thin sauce.  There’s nothing I hate more than being served under-drained pasta with a scoop of watery sauce.  Of course pasta will carry a little water to the plate.  To reduce water content: salt your water before boiling and cook your pasta al dente. Bring your water to a complete boil, add the pasta, and cook for no longer than 5-7 minutes.  Right when the snap is out of your spaghetti--it’s done.  If you cook ravioli while watching Glee and see two sets of commercials--it’s ready.  The more you overcook pasta the more difficult it’s going to be to get the water out.  If you do happen to overcook and still want to taste the tomato sauce, drain the pasta and before adding red gravy sprinkle it with . . .
  5. Pecorino Romano: After your pasta is drained, transfer it to a serving bowl and add grated Pecorino Romano (you can usually find it in bulk at a local Italian store or upscale grocery).  Add a few ladles of sauce and stir.  Notice how the cheese acts as a binding agent between the sauce and noodle.  Your sauce will go farther.  This simple step can even make store bought sauce taste homemade.  The Pecorino’s saltiness brings out the natural taste of the tomato and is worth every penny.  Substitute Kraft parmesan if you have to--but add cheese and mix your pasta before serving your guests.  Keep the mess in the kitchen, not your kitchen table.