I made bolognese for dinner last night. I always find making bolognese soothing. I think it is because the only time I have ever made bolognese at work is for staff food. I used to find great joy in making staff food taking food that was sub par, older burgers, fillet trim, under sized fish and such and making it into a meal that all my friends could enjoy.
Anyway no staff food for the time being and I never make it now anyway. The sense of serenity I get from bolognese at home comes from ritual. The same steps. In the same order. The same pan. The wonderful comfort of familiarity.
It is always the same. Chop an onion (I use the food processor I’m a lazy cook at home. Sweat it in the pan. In with the mushrooms. Cut the bacon. Add it in. Add the mince. The satisfaction as it turns from pink to grey and then to brown. Add in the garlic. Next the tomato puree. Oregano and half a bottle of red wine. Reduce, simmer. Add the Oxo and a tin of tomatoes. Bubble away. Such a simple staple. Always had been the same. Always will be the same. It doesn’t go wrong. It doesn’t make my brain go wrong. Not just comfort food but comfort cooking.
T makes the spaghetti. I don’t know if he uses sorcery or science or maybe some of each. But he can make the right amount. So satisfying. Leftovers for lunch!
Leave a Reply