RAGÙ ALLA BOLOGNESE

The King of Kings

Let's just get the obvious out of the way first, you can’t really write a new recipe for ragù alla Bolognese. A lot of people (usually Italians, funnily enough) will tell you that classical, regional Italian cooking is so steadfast in tradition and so sacrosanct that it would be an injustice to try and stray from what we know to be good. And they have a point - it is that way because it works. I rarely follow recipes when I cook, but sometimes with a heavyweight classic, it’s fun to go through the process of understanding and making something to a very traditional recipe. It’s also worth doing because this will teach you how to make a really good ragù - a technique which you can then apply to whatever ingredients you like, which leads me onto my next point. Let me preface this with a disclaimer: if you want to make a ragù with tomatoes and garlic and herbs and mushrooms in it then do it, it will be delicious (hopefully). People often get far too concerned with something being ‘traditional’, especially with Italian food. Understand though that in that case you are then making something quite different to ragù Bolognese, and that’s fine. What I can’t abide by is people who should know better (TV chefs, recipe developers, magazines and books etc) writing recipes for ‘Bolognese’ which just aren’t. Otherwise, what’s the point in names at all?

It is often hard to impress upon anyone not Italian the intense and fierce regionality of it’s cuisine. Italy only became a unified country about 150 years ago, before that it was made up of various warring kingdoms principalities and states, with different languages, cultures and traditions. This, coupled with the wide variation in produce which follows the heavily contrasting geography across the country, from the arid heat of Sicily to the frozen mountains of Lombardi and Trentino, results in hyper regional cooking. You will find the same recipes made in a different way with the same name, or with a different name made the same way, just a few miles apart.

Bolognese outside of Italy

Outside of Italy, sauces called ‘Bolognese’ can vary pretty wildly but often aren’t especially similar to what you’d find in Bologna. The English favourite ‘Spaghetti Bolognese’ is not part of Bolognese, or even Italian cuisine. It is actually much closer to a Neapolitan ragù in style, Naples having a much more prolific use of tomatoes in its kitchen than Bologna (a reflection of their respective climates and produce). I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Spag Bol, in fact I love it, because migration, the movement of people and the resulting cooking is one of the things I find most fascinating about food. It’s an interesting quirk of migration and language that ‘Bolognese’ (meaning ‘from Bologna’) has become the word synonymous with chunky pasta sauces (veggie Bolognese, mushroom bolognese etc) when the Italian ‘ragù’ already means exactly that. It would be a bit like an Italian calling any kind of pasty to pie a ‘beef Cornish’ or ‘veggie Cornish’.

What actually is ragù all Bolognese?

The point of all of this is not to get all bogged down in tradition but rather to take a deep dive into one of the most well known (and often misunderstood) Italian dishes. Once you read enough recipes and speak to enough chefs and nonne, it becomes clear that there is no one definitive recipe for this sauce. What you are really doing is following the guidelines and culinary traditions of that area, cooking within the parameters of what is accepted to be ragù alla Bolognese - ragù made in the Bolognese style. Let’s explore them:

Soffritto - I have never seen a recipe for a Bolognese ragù which doesn’t start with a soffritto of onion, carrot and celery. Soffritto is the base for a lot of classic Italian (and French, where it is called mirepoix) cooking. Even here you can find some regional variation (red onion, for example, is often used in the kitchens of Tuscany). Finely diced and sweated slowly and gently in plenty of olive oil (or butter, see below) this is the foundation of flavour in the dish.

Fat - Lard is a bit old school but very good. More commonly seen now is olive oil, butter or a combination of both.

Pancetta or prosciutto di Parma - one of the two is often (but not always) added along with the soffritto.

Meat - Beef, pork and veal in various combinations and quantities. You will find recipes which use only beef, beef and pork or a mixture of all three. I have never seen a recipe without beef, however. Other meats like sausage are not used in Bologna but may be found in other areas of Emilia-Romagna and other regions - it is very commonly used in Tuscan ragù.

Wine - Almost always used to deglaze after cooking the meat. White gives a more delicate sauce and red a more full and hearty flavour.

Stock or broth - Often unspecified in recipes but typically a beef or chicken stock. It is worth making your own stock because this is the only aromatic element of the dish and is often used liberally.

Tomato - Bologna has a short tomato season so the tomato used is often preserved, usually found as a puree, concentrate or in canned/jarred form. Very old recipes have no tomato at all, as this sauce pre-dates the introduction of tomatoes to Italy in the 18th Century.

Milk - Used quite often but not always, it can be added towards the beginning or towards the end. The former results in a very tender luscious sauce (the milk helps tenderise the meat). The latter gives a more creamy and rich sauce.

Pasta - Tagliatelle fatto a mano (made by hand) is king and easily the most common choice. Pappardelle works well too (though strictly is more of a Tuscan tradition) and I have seen it with other shapes well suited to a thick sauce like penne and rigatoni.

Things which are not used - Garlic is almost never seen, I can’t be sure why other than that the flavour dominates too much. Herbs - herbs are not widely used in the Bolognese kitchen in general, and especially not in ragù. Again, you only have to go to the neighbouring regions of Liguria or Tuscany to find herbs in abundance, but not here. Mushrooms - I have seen this in Tuscan ragù but not in Bologna.

And now to the recipe.

RAGÙ ALLA BOLOGNESE - A RECIPE

Ingredients:

• 25 g butter

• 50 g pancetta or prosciutto di Parma, finely chopped/minced

• 175g each of beef (skirt is ideal, I also like bottom sirloin), pork and veal, minced (ask your butcher to mince it twice). Or 250g each of beef and pork if you have a moral objection to veal (or if it is unavailable). It is important that the meats are not too lean which will result in a dry ragù.

• 400g chopped tomatoes, pureed (or jarred passata)

• 1 small onion, chopped

• 1 stick celery, chopped

• 1 small carrot, chopped

• 250ml  dry white wine

• 500ml whole milk

• 500ml beef or chicken stock

• Salt, pepper, olive oil

Method:

• In a large bowl, mix your minced beef/ pork/ veal together with a generous pinch of salt (3-5g)

• Finely dice the vegetables separately. This is your soffritto.

• Chop the pancetta as finely as possible/ mince it like you would garlic.

• Place the tomatoes or passata and the stock in a small saucepan on a low heat and warm gently but don’t allow it to boil. Add a tsp of salt.

• Place a large pan on a medium low heat and add the butter and a couple of tablespoons of olive oil (the oil will stop the butter browning).

• Add the onion and a pinch of salt and cook slowly, stirring continuously.

• After a few minutes, the the smell of the onion will go from being harsh to slightly sweet. Only at this point, add the celery and a minute later the carrot. It seems fastidious but the logic in not simply frying the soffritto all at once is that the more dominating flavour of the onion needs to be tamed before adding the celery and carrot, otherwise they all end up tasting of onion and you lose the layers of flavour.

• Next, add the pancetta and let the mixture cook gently for a further 15 minutes. You want it to be soft and fragrant but with very little colouration. If the soffritto is browning, turn down the heat and add a splash of water.

• Once the soffritto is ready, transfer the contents of your pan (but do not clean) into a small bowl and return the pan to a very high heat.

• In order to avoid stewing your meat, proceed as follows: Add a third of the meat to the pan, breaking it up and stirring continuously, allowing as much moisture to evaporate as possible. As soon as the meat is nicely browned, follow with the next third of the meat, and repeat the process once more.

• Once all of the meat is added and browned, make a well in the centre of the mix, add half of the wine and allow it to evaporate for a minute or so, at first untouched and then stirring well, scraping the bottom of the pan to deglaze. Repeat with the remaining wine. It is important to allow the wine to evaporate completely to remove any harshness. You will know the wine has evaporated completely when you can no longer smell it - use your nose not your eyes.

• Next, add the milk and stir well.

• Add the warm tomato and broth mix, pop a lid on and adjust the heat to hold the ragù at a very gentle simmer for 3 to 4 hours. Stir regularly.

• Once cooked, you’re looking for a creamy and thick but not dry texture. Taste and season the ragù again. Cook your tagliatelle and once al dente, mix well with the sauce, serve in warm bowls and top with parmesan.

  So, this is the way I like to make it, but play around. Use red wine, vary your quantities or type of stock or tomato, only mince your meat once for a more rustic style, add milk towards the end, try it with different shapes of pasta. Go wild!