Secret Saucy Techniques

or "Late Night Learnings"

It is Friday night and it is far later than I would like it to be. I can’t believe I am shopping for ingredients at a 24-hour grocery store during the latter part of those 24 hours.. I had plans to be home much earlier in the evening but as it turns out, Paul’s very close friend Laila was having a going away party. We had a fantastic time with good company, conversation and as it turns out charity. Laila has always been very involved in the community and even at her going away party, she manages to raise five hundred dollars for a women’s leadership organization. Her going is still giving. That’s the kind of life Laila lives. I can’t tell if she does it to make me feel guilty or inspire me. Either way it was an evening full of laughs and inevitable tears.

After we say goodbye, I picture myself slipping into bed and enjoying a couple hours of rest. Instead I am at the all-night grocery store. I am only one of four people there and I wander the aisles looking for ingredients. Twenty people are expecting a spaghetti lunch tomorrow with garlic bread and salad. I am taking it to work in the morning so I only have a limited time left. For the first time, I am making homemade spaghetti sauce. Usually I wouldn’t attempt something new this late, but my sister-in-law gave me a great recipe that she swore was an authentic Italian recipe she received from a friend. The ingredients to the sauce appeared to be a lot cheaper to make for twenty people than to purchase bottled sauce. Plus, I love a good challenge.

We get home and I pull out various pots and pans and lay out the sauce ingredients, the garlic bread and the pasta. I pause for a moment and feel sort of hypocritical about cooking a ‘authentic’ Italian meal. Earlier in the evening there was a very heated discussion at the table about there not being enough Mexican cooks on TV. Every person on every food network was cooking Mexican food, except for the Mexican’s themselves. Not to mention, a majority of the ‘authentic’ recipe’s include canned beans and pre-made taco shells. I agreed whole heartedly in the discussion earlier, and yet here I am an hour later making what I consider to be authentic Italian food. I know nothing about authentic Italian cooking.

Although to be fair, I am making this food in the privacy of my own kitchen and not passing it off to thousands as the gospel truth. I think that whatever people want to cook and eat in the privacy of their own kitchens, is their business. There were no cameras rolling in my house and definitely not everything I do in my kitchen is audience approved. In fact, just the other day I was using a tortilla to eat Chinese food. Would I recommend that on a food show if I had one? Probably not, even though it tasted good (and disgusted Paul).

Personal philosophy aside though, I had to get this sauce done. I started to heat a large silver pot over the stove while I boiled some water and pre-heated the oven. I threw some garlic and olive oil in the pot and let them sauté. At the same time, I prepared the bread and opened the pasta boxes. I added more ingredients to the silver pot while I chopped away at some vegetables and herbs. I filled the silver pot with more ingredients and hit high on the stove. I know that I probably should slow cook the sauce to let it absorb flavor, but I really haven’t got the time. I throw the bread in oven and finish up the spaghetti and then check back on the sauce. It seems kind of sticky on the bottom but I give it a good stir. I package up the meal and let the sauce cool before I place it in the fridge. Mission accomplished. Time for bed.

I wake up the next morning and get everything ready to go. Before I get set to leave, I try the sauce to see if the flavors have settled nicely. It tastes great to me and I am feeling pretty accomplished. Paul asks for a sample and makes a curious face while trying it.

“How is it?” I ask, already assured it was a success.

“It has kind of a strange taste to it….”says Paul trailing off, “What did you put in it?”. I go over the ingredients with him and I can tell he is weighing through every ingredient carefully.

“Hmmm…maybe you put too much olive oil because it has a unique taste that I can’t really place.” he says while still trying to figure it out in his head.

“It’s fine,” I say “it tastes like spaghetti sauce. I have to go.” I gather up the meal and head to work where I know my food will get tested by many others throughout the day.

“Try my homemade spaghetti sauce!” I say while serving up a plate.

“Hmmm…Joseph ….this is good….” says one of my loyal testers, “What did you put in it? It has a very intense flavor. I can’t quite figure it out.” I go over the list of ingredients with her but she still seems confused. “No, there is something else in there. A smoky intense flavor. Did you use liquid smoke or anything?” she asks nodding her head still mulling it over. “No,” I say ,” I used wheat pasta, maybe that’s what you taste.” I tried to think if I had deviated from the recipe, but I was pretty sure I hadn‘t.

I checked in with the rest of the tasters. Barry seemed to enjoy it and I think he had two platefuls. That made me feel relieved and I asked him what he thought. “It is very unique,” he said, “I picked up on some different flavors the second time I had it. Did you use roasted or grilled vegetables when you made it?” he asked curiously. We usually shared cooking ideas between the both of us. “No,” I said, “I just used the vegetables as they were.” I really started to rack my brain. Several more people commented on the sauce and were asking or guessing about my secret techniques.

Finally a good friend pulled me aside and grilled me about my sauce process and ingredients. I gave a step-by-step play of the previous night. “Wait a minute.” she stopped me. “ It was sticky at the bottom but you stirred it?” she asked. “Yeah,” I continued, “I just gave it a good stir and it was fine and then I let it cool down. And then…”

“Joseph,” she said, “You burned the sauce.”

I thought about it. It was true. The intense smoky grilled flavor that everyone was trying pinpoint was the taste of nothing else but my inexperience and impatience. I felt slightly flushed with embarrassment, but I was also comforted. So many of my friends were willing to consider I had a new cooking technique rather than dismiss my burnt spaghetti sauce. That or maybe they were just good fibbers. It still felt consolatory to be surrounded by those who look past the flaws and search for the fantastic.