Making Tomato Sauce

No Measurements Required. Just your Taste Buds, Eye Sight, and Sense of Smell

Hi Everyone!

I thought I would write down a recipe for my grandmother's/grandfather's tomato sauce-at least their version and my little tweaks.

But let me tell a short story about growing up in Catania, Sicily, and my excitement on Saturday evenings when the sauce was being made.

My grandmother would start the sauce every Saturday evening around six or seven.

While browning the meat she was using that evening, she would also have garlic and olive oil on the burner, sautéing the garlic and onions along with some basil and oregano.

Then, she would grab the fresh tomatoes from the garden. The tomatoes she used were Roma tomatoes. The soil they were planted in had ash mixed in the soil from Mt. Etna, the active volcano behind our home.

My grandfather said it would be good for the tomatoes and all our veggies, fruit trees, and grape vines growing in the yard.

My grandmother would boil the tomatoes so the skin was easier to peel and then strain the tomatoes to remove the seeds.

After all of this, it was time to make the sauce.

This is where things would get crazy around my grandparent's home. Arguments would start about what was going in that evening's tomato sauce.

From the meats to the type of wine or beer, in some cases, the arguments would get rather heated since my grandmother liked her sauce her way, and my grandfather, while enjoying her sauce, felt it needed one more ingredient.

My grandmother would gather the meats, which included braciole, sausages, and sometimes meatballs.

All those meats, along with her herbs from the garden and wine, made the best sauce I've come to know.

After adding all the ingredients, it was time to set the sauce to simmer overnight.

The next morning, she would be in the kitchen tasting her sauce with fresh bread she had made early in the morning and making minor adjustments to the sauce.

See, my grandmother and grandfather never measured what was going in the sauce with a measuring cup or spoon. They would use their hands and say, "That's it for now; we'll check in the morning if we need more."

Once everything was okay, I would also get a taste before the fireworks started.

My grandfather always added beer to my grandmother's recipes whether they needed it or not. He felt everything deserved to be seasoned with a beer.

When my grandmother turned away or went outside, the beer would come out, and my grandfather would pour the entire bottle into the sauce.

Of course, my grandmother would catch him each time and let it go after complaining for a while. That was the only time I saw my grandparents argue.

The secret ingredient she would add in the morning, though, is what set her sauce above the rest.

Butter. You're reading that right. A glob of homemade butter was added to the sauce, which made the sauce velvety.

We're not talking a mild velvety, either. It was very pronounced, and there was no comparison when tasted against other sauces.

I try to get San Marzano or plum tomatoes when making my sauce. I've also tried cherry tomatoes lately; the sauce came close to hers.

The one thing, though, is no matter what tomatoes I use, I always remember a glob of butter. The glob size is dependent on how much sauce I'm making.

I start small and work my way up since there isn't a way to measure the perfect glob.

So start small and work up to the velvety taste you desire.

Buon Appetito!

Mark & Patti