Nonna’s Tomato Sauce

July came and went in the blink of an eye, and now August is following the same path, leaving me wondering where summer went.

I have been travelling a lot in July, not so much in August. The two months had a noticeably different rhythm and a very opposite feel. July felt suspended, ethereal, with me constantly on the move and up in the air, struggling to feel settled or make sense of where I was, for I wasn’t anywhere for long enough. August, in contrast, was a static month, and yet one full of restless anxiety, of changes, of big announcements and strict deadlines. I suppose all these factors, in different ways, are part of the reason why I have been a Tom Sawyer of sorts, shirking from this space and missing the chance to write about much of the good food that has appeared, despite everything, on our table.

However, I did want to share some photos of my nonna that I took on a short visit I paid to my homeland back in July, as she recently turned 95 and made her first appearance on a foreign national paper. I captured her in her beloved ‘basement kitchen’ while she was jarring tomatoes and making fresh tomato sauce, teaching me a thing or two about canning. You might remember reading about her already when I wrote about her chicken, so I just thought I would skip introductions. Here she is:

Grandma’s tomato sauce isn’t any more special than the excellent homemade tomato sauces you’ll find all over Italy, and it is made in a very similar set of steps. Let’s just say that we just love hers because it’s hers. Like so many Italian recipes, every household has its rules, its secret ingredients, and indeed the ultimate recipe. To be fair to Grandma’s recipe, though, she is right to be proud of it, mostly because she is rightly proud of the tomatoes she grows. Sweet, fleshy but with just enough water to turn saucy, they are definitely the secret ingredient for a really good sauce. To these, she just adds only a bit of oil, salt, garlic and basil after they have been cooked, milled, strained and jarred.

I wish I’d brought some of her sauce to London like I used to do when I was living in Bra. She seemed distressed by the fact I couldn’t take any. As I was struggling to explain the concept of hand luggage to her, I was pondering whether her sauce was worth checking a bag for. Then, I remembered that I am going back again in late September, at which point no one will come between me and some properly-made pasta rossa.

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Back soon with a recipe and some pretty massive news. Meanwhile, elsewhere:

An interview with the charming & talented duo of The Curious Pear
On Guardian Cook for Kitchen Encounters

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Good reads:

Rachel on cooking in Rome and Sicily 
Tamar Adler on beans
Sophie and Caroline on cornershop cooking