As Grandma Dearie used to say, “First, you gotta start with the sauce.” So we will talk about how she would cook it because her recipes always came with such sage (pun intended) advice for living, and then we will have a more practical recipe with items readily purchased at your favorite supermarket.

“Henry! Oofah! You always grow too many tomatoes!”

This complaint because Grandma would now have to blanch, crush, and can all the plum tomatoes that seemed to appear from magic seeds each summer. She would use the Summer Kitchen, the one in the basement of the two-family ranch that housed our extended family. Plus, the steps from the downstairs kitchen — my French American mom’s kitchen — led up into the backyard garden that filled one city lot. Once the quart jars were sterilized and  filled with the fresh tomatoes and a leaf or two of fresh basil from the garden, they were cooled, sealed, and stored on shelves in the playroom which also doubled as my dad’s office.

Sunday was Italian Dinner Day. “Henry! Go down and bring me two jars of tomatoes. And open them for me.”

My grandparents would rise early to start the sauce. Gramps would plate the meats that grandma would cook in the sauce, and we would wake to the scent of garlic sauteeing in olive oil. Once the meats were browned and added to the pot, the gravy was left on slow simmer while they went to the Italian Mass.  My parents took my sister and me to the noon Mass, so that when we arrived home, the food was ready and the feast began. We sat down at the table at one o’clock and we didn’t usually finish the meal until three. Once, when we visited Grandma Dearie’s siblings in Naples, we ate from noon until 8:00pm, with everything served from the kitchen on separate plates. They called us “the skinny Americans!”

So, Grandma Dearie’s Basic Marinara, followed by The Gravy:

1-2 cans San Marzano crushed plum tomatoes (or blanch fresh tomatoes in boiling water, peel them, and squeeze them with your hands)use quality tomatoes –they should smell like sunshine (use 2 cans if you have more to do than just dress pasta, i.e., a parmiagiana dish)

2-3 large fresh cloves of garlic

Virgin Olive Oil (no, this does not mean it was pressed from ugly olives; virgin or extra virgin refers to the pressings of the olives), enough to coat the bottom of a large kettle/saucepan

3-4  fresh basil leaves, whole or finely chopped to preference — Grandma would say, “twist them with your fingers, sniff the aroma, better than perfume, then cook the leaves with the browning garlic”

1 T sugar, according to taste

Salt to taste — lightly

SUGGESTED pastas: 1 lb. thin spaghetti, penne rigate, or bite-sized ricotta ravioli.
This is your basic Marinara sauce, without the meats, which is sauce and not “gravy:”

Simply saute the chopped garlic in olive oil on medium heat until it begins to brown lightly. Add basil, stir, then quickly add tomatoes so they surprise the oil and begin to bubble. Lower to simmer, cover and let simmer on low while you cook your pound of preferred pasta according to taste (note: fresh pasta is already soft and therefore cannot be cooked al dente; will take less time than boxed). Once your pasta is cooked and drained, your sauce is ready. This is one time you should not cook the sauce too long. You want a fresh tomato taste, enhanced by the garlic and basil. Toss sauce together with pasta, top with grated or shredded parmigiana. Please never serve pasta naked, always dress it!

The gravy version will be posted separately, with recipes for meatballs and bracciole. Meats will also include pork and Italian sausage.