When I was a kid, I used to sit at the kitchen table on a weekend morning watching my mother chop mounds of onion, celery and carrots to begin her Sunday meat sauce. Soon the aroma of the onion gently sautéing in olive oil had my mouth watering which quickly resembled drooling. Mom patiently waited until the onions had softened to add in the carrots and celery and it was at that point that I was finally allowed to help stir the pot.

Continue reading A Bolognese and a Battuto at Our Italian Table.