Ragù alla Bolognese
I was amused to see that the featured article in this week’s
Good Eating section of the Chicago Tribune was devoted to the topic of
ragù alla Bolognese; the reason I was amused was that coincidentally I had just made this dish the day before (Tuesday), under the inspiration of a series of photos I had just seen on an Italian website to make the dish and document the process for the archives. All in all, I think the article, written by Geoff Dougherty, good, though I think it could well have been better, especially with regard to the discussion of the process of making the dish itself. Happily, the author researched his topic fairly well and certainly perpetrates no egregious transgressions; his own comments are based on a field trip to Italy and he offers further comments stemming from discussions of the topic he had with some people on both sides of the Atlantic; his textural research seems to be limited to Kasper’s
Splendid Table (and that’s a fine book) but perhaps there was simply no room in the piece for him to refer to other works he had consulted – I’m sure the word limit he faced was a challenge.
There are a few infelicities, such as the reference to the very old city of Ferrara as a “village,” which I find quite an amazing gaffe and one which bespeaks a real cultural misunderstanding of what the term ‘city’ means in all of Europe. Less grave are the repeated misspellings of the name of a well-known restaurant in Oakland, California, Oliveto (misspelt as Olivetto in the article), which should have been caught.
***
It’s now a good bit more than a year since I wrote a longish post on
ragù alla Bolognese (link). Rereading that post now, I think there’s one point I need to comment on: I should have said the minimum cooking time
for the simmering stage should be about two hours, which leaves the overall time of preparation close to three hours, if one adds in the preparations of the mis-en-place and the absolutely necessary long and slow cooking of the
battuto or
soffritto. That said, I think the overall quality improves with longer cooking and for
ragù alla Bolognese three hours of simmering is better than two and four better than three, though the rate of improvement slows down as one proceeds, I think. Going beyond four hours of simmering will probably yield some further improvement (especially under certain conditions) but generally not any more improvement than letting the ragù rest off the heat for a time, something suggested by one of the Italian chefs mentioned in the Tribune piece.*
When I made
ragù alla Bolognese the other day, I stayed very much within the parameters of the traditional, beginning with a garlic-less battuto, cooked very slowly and for a long time, i.e., close to a half hour.
Some of the cooks cited in the Tribune article call for deep (and in one case, repeated) browning of the meat and generally speaking, that’s a good thing. But I feel deep browning in this dish hurts the texture and with regard to the flavour, I think having only very light browning from slow cooking results in a more delicate flavour and one which is very distinctive. This is one of those points where there is considerable variation and thus where one has room to personalise without leaving aside tradition (though no browning at all and charring do strike me as not acceptable extremes). In the following picture, the meat has just been added to the soffritto and is being broken up.
Ragù alla Bolognese is
not a tomato sauce with meat; it is a meat sauce flavoured with small amounts of several vegetables, one of which is tomato (to paraphrase Kasper). That said, when on Tuesday morning I went to look at the bowl of fresh tomatoes I have in the kitchen, I found that a couple of especially nice ones were starting to develop trouble spots. True, I believe, to the sort of traditions that underlie all of Italy’s regional cuisines, I was not going to waste those tomatoes, so on this occasion I happily used the fresh tomatoes (grated, discarding all skin but leaving in the seeds) and, all in all, a little more tomato than I normally would.
I simmered the ragù for about four hours or so, so the total preparation time was about five hours. Unmentioned in most discussions of
ragù alla Bolognese is what I consider the key to making an elegant and completely digestible final product: skimming. I assiduously skim off the fat that the long, slow cooking allows to pool at the top. From this pot, I removed between 1/3 and 1/2 a cup of fat, saving calories, plaque on the arteries and losing really nothing in flavour, as a certain amount of fat inevitably remains.
As is traditional, I gradually added doses of whole milk in the later stages of simmering. I did not, however, finish the dish with cream, in part because I didn’t have any on hand and in part because I wanted to keep things a little bit on the lighter side. Instead, just before adding the tagliatelle to the pan with the ragù, I stirred into the ragù a tablespoon of smooth, high quality, whole-milk ricotta -- not canonical but not bad either.
To my mind, the above dish has a reasonable ratio of ragù to noodles and I was in this regard shocked by the photo in the Tribune of a plate of (what looked to be) spaghetti with ragù from Chicago’s great Italian restaurant, Spiaggia, in which the pasta looked to be a minor addition to a bowl of meat. Perhaps the restaurant is making a necessary concession to local expectations and that is certainly understandable, if also lamentable for those who like a more traditional approach.
Ragù alla Bolognese is without doubt one of the great dishes of Italian – one could even say of European – cuisine, but badly executed and completely wrongly conceived versions abound. In some cases too, one crosses paths with something bearing the name
ragù alla Bolognese which is a ragù and is very good but, alas, is not
ragù alla Bolognese. This sort of profligate use of a traditional term is regrettable, not only because it gives many people the impression that
ragù alla Bolognese is a poorly defined meat sauce but also because it robs other, traditional and excellent ragù preparations from getting their just due. There are certainly aspects of
ragù alla Bolognese which traditionally allow for variation and beyond that one always has the right to prepare food according to one's own personal preferences, but
ragù alla Bolognese is, in essence, a simple and concomitantly elegant and delicious dish. As I often find myself saying about traditional Italian dishes, it is well worth the effort to seek out or make for oneself a very traditional version before trying to customise it, for the traditional approach is hard to beat.**
Antonius
*
In the post from last June, my comment on overcooking of tomato sauces sounds to be intended to apply to ragù alla Bolognese and I think I was thinking of two things at once and phrased my statement poorly, perhaps because I had just been discussing versions that include pomodori pelati. In any event, overcooking of genuine tomato sauces or Southern Italian style ragù in which a lot of tomato is used is quite possible and can be, in my view, very bad at times. But ragù alla Bolognese is, of course, not a tomato sauce and the tomato element it contains is quite small. In simmering ragù alla Bolognese, again, I think a minimum of two hours and preferably three or four hours is the way to go.
** I strongly recommend the book by fellow New Netherlander (Jersey-side) Lynne Rossetto Kasper, The Splendid Table, for her discussion of the dish and more generally for her presentation of the cuisine of Emilia Romagna.
Last edited by
Antonius on October 6th, 2005, 4:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Alle Nerven exzitiert von dem gewürzten Wein -- Anwandlung von Todesahndungen -- Doppeltgänger --
- aus dem Tagebuch E.T.A. Hoffmanns, 6. Januar 1804.
________
Na sir is na seachain an cath.