Cooking is a philosophy; not a recipe. ~ Marco Pierre White

Happiness and Making Sauce

So there comes a time in the garden where you don’t have any ripe tomatoes but the basil is still growing like crazy. At that point, you only have two choices, make pesto or make sauce. While I do like pesto, I’m not a massive fan and it’s a bit of work and just doesn’t hit like sauce does. So today, I found myself with one only one ripe tomato and a ton of basil. So I decided to make make sauce today.

I decided to do it right, so while not fully from scratch, I worked pretty close. I love cooking and the whole process, cutting and sauteing the vegetables, frying up the sausage, making the meatballs and cooking down the sauce is all an act of love for me. The smell of a pot of sauce on the stove always takes me back to one place, my Uncle Mikey’s cabin.

That’s Uncle Mikey in the picture above busting through the screen door. His cabin was the center piece of our extended family’s summer. You see Uncle Mikey’s cabin had a pool, a big damn above ground pool and it was the place to be every summer. Every summer you’d find people in the pool, sitting on the deck at the cabin, inside the kitchen eating pasta and always, there was a pot of sauce on the stove. There was always pasta on request and of course, a loaf of Italian bread on counter so you could rip off a piece of bread and dunk it in the sauce.

So sitting here today, smelling the pot of sauce on the stove, on a quiet Sunday afternoon is about as happy as I get, remembering the man I was named at and all the happy times at his cabin. Well, as happy as I get until I make those ravioli’s later and drown them in the sauce.

Have a happy day my friends. ~ Rev Kane