A Recipe....Finally

I am sure you have noticed that up until now I have talked the talk in a devastatingly convincing manner, but have yet to supply anything in the way of goods as far as recipes are concerned. I do have some, honest guv! I was just trying to establish a rapport with this whole writing into the ether business, but as these few days have gone by I feel ready to bring something to the table, so to speak, and with apologies for the dreadful pun. I could not begin to ask anyone to cook anything, if I had not given them the recipe for my most favourite meal in the whole world, which is my mother's pasta and meatballs. I know, you are going to think :"C'mon, really, all that build up and then this" Bear with me, this deceptively simple recipe is quite simply everything wonderful about home for me. I only have to smell it cooking, and I feel I am near my Mum, no mean feat seeing as I live in Australia and she lives in England (but is a proud Hebridean and don't you EVER, ever forget it). I make this when I feel homesick, or when I am feeling greedy. My children love it, I had to give the recipe to my ex-husband to make sure he could cook it for them. I have to admit my version is a little different from my mother's. She is not a work-shy fop like myself, nothing is ever too much trouble for her. I have a favourite aunt who used to ask my Mum to help with the staff coffee mornings and arrive at the house at 7.30 am to be greeted with an array of baked goods that would give any small town bakery a reputation that would ensure business for all eternity. You see, I picked this cooking bug up by osmosis really. My mother was an adventurous cook, I can remember her making authentic currries when most people still relied on a hideous mixture of generic curry powder and sultanas to provide excitement to their meals. Her desserts are legendary, and will remain so until I trust you enough to share them. Long before Jamie Oliver extolled the virtues of home-cooked meals my Mum made everything herself, so we were very, very spoilt. Possibly the biggest gift my mother gave me was letting me have the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon to bake a cake, any cake, from the books I read all week, planning. Now there is one, huge, essential difference between myself and my Mum, she is a naturally clean person, and this is reflected in her home  Through her almost seamless steady hard work, surfaces remain dust-free, and her kitchen in particular would sparkle. I always joke ( but actually half believe it) that if they made a perfume that smelled like bleach my Mum would love it. For me however, although I can cook, cleaning is not, how to put this charitably, my strongest suit. I create disorder even when I appear to do nothing but sit and write for hours, I look up and there are piles of debris as far as the eye can see-and if the eye can't see very far it is probably because of the rest of the mess. So to turn over a kitchen to an enthusiastic, yet hopelessly messy, 9 year old was an act of motherly love proving I am one of the luckiest people on the planet. Every week I would make a cake, wait the seemingly endless hours before it had cooled and then ice it and present it to everyone. The only rule was that I had to clean up after myself...but I have a sneaking suspicion that my Mum waited until we were all dutifully eating cake to set things straight. So when I give you this recipe, I will give my own version, whilst telling you the correct way to do it if you wish. I am more idle than my Mum ( as if that hadn't already been made apparent) so choose your version, or indeed, combine the two to make your owm. Either way, make this once and I PROMISE you will make it again, and again. My daughter can make this, my son will learn and I hope one day their children will too.

My mother makes her meatballs in the same manner as I do, then painstakingly dips each one in first egg and then breadcrumbs before frying them off and adding them to the sauce. If you are possessed of a more active disposition than myself, and don’t have time constraints or a new book you just HAVE to get back to reading, then do this.  If you do use my Mother’s original method  you won’t have to add breadcrumbs to the sauce itself, as some will remove themselves from the meatballs naturally and thicken the sauce for you. The ingredients list looks sparse I know, but food doesn’t always have to be complicated to be very, very good.

 500g Pork Mince ( if you can’t obtain this you may use the mixture of pork and veal, or beef)

6 cloves of garlic finely chopped.

1 tablespoon of dried Oregano

1 tablespoon of dried Basil

1 egg.

Salt and Freshly Ground Black Pepper

250g breadcrumbs ( fresh or dried- this is family cooking, not Michelin cheffy fare)

2 tablespoons of Olive Oil ( ordinary is fine)

1 bottle of Tomato Passata (500 ml), or 2 cans of good quality Crushed Tomatoes

 1 teaspoon of sugar.

In a large bowl combine the mince, half of the garlic, the dried herbs, the egg, and half of the breadcrumbs. Season to taste( I don’t mean taste it of course, just add however much seasoning you feel is appropriate for your needs). Form into balls of about a tablespoon each and set aside.

 Into a large saucepan put the rest of the garlic, breadcrumbs, and the oil and cook on a low heat for a couple of minutes. Keep an eye on this, as burnt garlic does nothing for anybody, once the garlic begins to smell  fragrant and you can see that the mixture is the pan is lightly golden, add the passata or the cans of tomatoes and cook gently. Season, again to taste, and add the sugar- the sugar just makes the sauce taste like even the most basic, mouth- puckering of tomatoes have had a modicum of loving care in their  growing methods, even if you and I know they came from the value section of the supermarket ( I do feel compelled to tell you that my mother insists on canned cherry tomatoes, so please use these if you can).

Now, gently put your uncooked meatballs into the sauce, if you feel compelled to stir do so carefully as you don't want to break them up. Allow everything to cook together on a low heat for about 30-45 minutes, stirring gently so the sauce doesn't 'catch' ( fancy way of saying burn at the bottom of pan wrecking everything). Serve with any pasta of your choice; I would argue strongly for penne, but my daughter would put forward just as strong a case for spaghetti, I rather feel the choice should be yours. A green salad on the table, freshly grated parmesan- although pecorino is also good-and some good bread is all the accompaniment you will need apart from good friends and some decent, robust, red wine (although something softer for the smaller people, who seem to universally love this, is necessarily-and legally- required)