It’s time for a post that we’ve been working on for a little while now. In fact, it’s been in the works for around 6 months. Near the end of last year, we decided to build a little seedling nursery in the garage, and teach ourselves how to grow a whole heap of perfect chillies. This is a step-by-step guide — everything you need to know — of how to grow your own!
Tomato Day this year only happened because I’m notoriously bad at reading and responding to messages. In the space of 24 hours we somehow pulled it all together. My uncle was immediately up for the challenge, and had a guy lined up by the end of the day with probably the last Romas in Australia. My mum grabbed some regular tomatoes and came straight around from work so that we could use them to clean out the machine, my cousin made early-morning plans to turn up with her baby and mum in tow, my brother drove 2.5 hours in the dark in a breaking down car, and my startled father-in-law, by chance visiting from Sydney, found himself swept up in the unstoppable momentum of Tomato Day 2023.
Tomato day. This week it’s something so exciting and close to my heart that it was hard knowing where to start. In fact, it’s so deeply enmeshed with who I am that I juggled joy and a hard lump in my throat as I tried to put it into words. After almost two decades, we’re bringing back tomato day!
As much as we love a light pasta dish, there is something incomparably comforting about a slow-cooked, thick tomato sauce. It’s been a while since we featured a good old ragu, so this week we’re cooking up a pot of short ribs. Nothing tricky, nothing fancy, just a nice long sit in the oven.
One of the most common cuts of meat growing up was the trusty osso bucco. It’s an Italian classic. Along with those irresistible thin Italian sausages and finely-sliced girello, it was the reason for semi-regular hour and a half round trips to the butcher on the other side of town. You can’t trust just any old butcher with your meat. Particularly if you’re an Italian family with fiercely baseless providore allegiances.
Sausages are fantastic; what more is there to say? They’re a self-contained, considered balance of meat, fat, and spice. I can relate. And they’re versatile: as perfect slow-cooked in a stew or sauce as they are grilled and rolled up in a slice of white bread. Think of this deliberately uncomplicated pasta sauce as a celebration of the sausage-maker and their hard work. Or at least a really quick way to make a very flavourful ragu.
There’s nothing like cooking with fresh, carefully sourced ingredients, but it’s not always that easy. Sometimes you just need a dish that you can make from tins and cans and a handful of greens. This time around, as I peeked into the cupboard, I was really in the mood for beans.
Let me tell you about my obsession with bone broth. I’ve never been particularly excited by soup, although I’d concede to the odd stew or thick blend of veggies. I certainly had no time for anything watery, and thin stocks weren’t even up for discussion. Then I discovered bone broth. This magnificent golden friend, silky and smooth to eat, wobbly like jelly when it’s set, and packed with flavour both deep and subtle at the same time.
One day, when I’m living in a whimsically decrepit villa in southern Italy, backing on to woodlands and looking down towards the ocean, I’ll grab my whittled walking stick and amble out the backdoor to collect mushrooms. There are honestly fewer things that I want more in life. But right now I’m 16,000 kilometres away and have little idea how to pick mushrooms that won’t kill me.
The worst kept secret of the pasta world is that for all of the incredible, complex, layered sauces out there, there is no pasta that can’t be enjoyed with just a chunk of butter and a crack of pepper. Whenever we got home especially late after school, and everyone was exhausted, it was hard to hide our delight at the suggestion of plain old pasta with butter.