What I’d like to do is flex what literary muscles I have to produce a terribly interesting story around this sauce. Well I can’t and I won’t make one up. So I’ll stick with the simple truth.
Let’s face it, everyone claims to have the Holy Grail of sauce, gravy, or whatever you want to call it in whatever part of the country you find yourself. Here in the Italian-concentrated northeast it’s Sunday Gravy or just plain sauce. We call it marinara and I suppose that gives us the freedom to plop it on stuff other than pasta. It’s perfect for chicken parm or on vegetables. Go wild. As far as I’m concerned, the great gravy debate is of no interest to me since I have this version. And now you do as well. And this safely keeps me (and hopefully you) out of a convesational fray similar to something that arises when religion, politics, or how to raise other people’s children is in the air.
Don’t even think about compromising on the quality of tomatoes for this sauce. Go for broke with San Marzano. You’ll save very little with a pedestrian variety and sacrifice so much by reaching for domestic. The good stuff has just the right amount of sweet/tart balance and less acid. I’ve used Cento, Colavita, and Bella Terra depending upon the store and what’s available. Better yet, if you’re lucky enough to be near an Italian grocer, get them there. They are likely to have a good selection and the proprietor will have strong feelings about what you should take home. If you can only find whole, peeled San Marzanos, crush or chop them yourself in the food processor. Sometimes I’ll get whole so that I can better control the texture. I like it a little chunky.
I’m not posting a picture of the marinara. Let’s face it. It would just look like a pot of lumpy barn paint. We all know what it’s supposed to look like any way. So I’ll use the space to emphasize the importance of the tomatoes.
My Favorite Marinara
Yield: About 12 cups
3 cans crushed San Marzano tomatoes, 28 oz.
2 cans diced tomatoes, 14.5 oz.
2 – 3 tablespoons tomato paste
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
6 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 bay leaves
2 medium onions, finely chopped
3 teaspoons dried oregano
¾ teaspoon dried thyme
2 teaspoons fennel seeds
3 tablespoons dried basil, or more to taste
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes (I use more)
1 tablespoon sugar
1 ¼ cups dry white wine – use something you’d happily drink
½ cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Heat oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are translucent, about 10 minutes. Add garlic and bay leaves and continue cooking for just one minute more so that you don’t burn the garlic. Stir in the crushed tomatoes and tomato paste. Add the white wine, oregano, fennel, basil, red pepper flakes, sugar, and thyme. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens slightly and its flavors come together. Stir in the chopped parsley.
This won’t take but about 30 minutes and you can certainly serve it at this point. But I’ll generally simmer, covered, for at least an hour and often more than that. Add salt and pepper and adjust other seasonings to suit your taste.
