Growing up as a child of the ’80s in the Philippines, spaghetti Bolognese meant, for the most part, mushy pasta topped with a bright red sauce of ground beef, sweet tomato sauce and grated quick-melt cheese. Fast food sweet spaghetti in a Styrofoam container eaten with a plastic fork was the norm. On special occasions they were homemade and sometimes the spaghetti would be replaced with elbow macaroni, then the entire thing was baked in the oven, forming a plastic-y crust of yellow cheese goo that stuck to your teeth. For birthdays sometimes you’d find bits of red hotdog in it or maybe have a side serving of them on a stick topped with pastel-colored marshmallows, slightly tinged pink from canoodling with the hotdogs.
As hard as I try, I can’t seem to remember when was the first time I had a proper Bolognese, or one that wasn’t sweet. I do remember that in high school the home of one of my best friends was famous for its lasagna. We would all head there after school and indulge in their extremely gooey and cheesy lasagna, followed by equally gooey fudge brownies. I also remember I had a fixation on the lasagna being sold at Starbucks back then. It was watery and tasteless but for some reason I enjoyed it to the point that I had a fight with my high school sweetheart because during one of our Starbucks dates we found out they took it off the menu.
Bolognese, whether sweet with hotdogs on mushy spaghetti or found in between layers of lasagna and cheese, has always been and always will be one of my ultimate comfort foods. And, for the life of me, as shameful as it may seem, with serious doubts beginning to form in my mind about the reliability of my memory, I cannot tell you where I’ve had the best version of it other than in my own home. Which seems odd considering the amount of times I’ve been to Italy, eaten in fantastic Italian restos, dug my fork into a mountain of pasta al ragu like a proficient miner and indulged in a giant melt-y plate of lasagna with as much gusto as Garfield. And while I don’t usually like to toot my own horn, I have to say that our homemade Bolognese is truly spectacular. Toot! Toot!
Everyone has a go-to dish, the kitchen equivalent of a little black dress or crisp white shirt. Something that even on the laziest of days you know will taste good and even better, make you feel good. For us at home it’s got to be the Bolognese. It’s something I almost always have the ingredients for and something both my husband and I can do pretty darn well. It’s even better when we collaborate over the pan. Perhaps it’s because we have done it so often that we’ve managed to perfect it, or perhaps it’s because it’s something we’ve managed to tailor exactly to our liking that we find it so good. Our version is not too saucy, a little spicy, full of veggies and best of all, extremely versatile. We use the same ragu and instead of just a regular spaghetti Bolognese, we use it for lasagna, hachis parmentier (a French version of a shepherd’s pie), or for throwing into a pot with a can of beans to make a quick chili con carne.
Here is our not-so-secret secret recipe. Feel free to play around with the proportions to your liking.
Our spaghetti bolognese recipe
I always keep 250-gram portions of ground beef in our freezer. Defrost in case of emergency or uncontrollable desire. Our base starts with some onions and garlic in some olive oil. Then we add some chopped mushrooms — brown, white button, shimeiji (keep them whole) or Portobello — always fresh, never canned. You can also use a medley of them. Then some tiny cubes of eggplant and zucchini all sautéed together till soft and cooked. We then add some tiny cubes of carrot, which we like to keep a little crunchy and finally, the ground beef.
Nothing in this house is ever cooked without spices. We have smoked sweet paprika, hot paprika, a little cayenne, chili powder and dried Italian herbs. It’s important to cook out the spices. I absolutely abhor premade tomato sauce, so we add about a tablespoon of tomato paste and a can of crushed or chopped tomatoes. Let that simmer down until all the tomatoes have turned a deep orange-red and the oil becomes a little orange. Next, deglaze with some balsamic vinegar and white or red wine (whichever bottle is open and available). We turn down the heat and, depending on the usage, like for lasagna, we would keep it a little more liquid, but for a hachis parmentier, we would dry it out. We add a little drop of cream and a small knob of butter before seasoning with salt and freshly cracked black pepper. Turn off the heat and mix in some finely chopped flat-leaf parsley.
You can use as is on top of your favorite pasta with some Parmesan or layer it between lasagna sheets topped with a béchamel and mozzarella. One of my favorite ways is to top it with some mashed potatoes prepared from a box served in individual pots with a big green side salad. And if you are having the sniffles, open a can of beans and throw it in the pot along with the Bolognese, add a little water and some more chili powder and cayenne, bring to a boil and re-season if necessary. Top with sour cream, a bit of chopped onions, tomatoes, fresh cilantro and a lime wedge.