Farm Kitchen Red Sauce

There are two types of Sauce produced on the Farm, and one far surpasses the other. By this, I am of course referring to the Summer Sauce. It is made by roasting just picked tomatoes of the sweet and rich variety alongside red peppers, both hot and sweet, a carrot or two, shallots, onions, garlic, and the backbone of a chicken all coated in a good, Virgin Olive Oil for several hours. Once all melts together, boiling water is poured over top, releasing any and all juicy bits that may otherwise want to be left behind. The contents of the roasting pan is poured into a stockpot and set a simmering for an hour or so, after which time the chicken bone is removed, and the contents of the pot put through a food mill. What is left is a glorious beginning. To this is added freshly plucked Greek oregano, thyme, basil, and crushed garlic (which has gone a turn or two in a pan with a bit of olive oil) and a dash or three of sea salt. At this point the Sauce is tasted. Is it sweet enough? Spicy? Rich? It should be all three. If not, you have not followed the recipe correctly, go back and attempt it again.

Such a Sauce can and should be used on any pasta, pizza, as a base for soups, or for gulping straight from the pot. Trust me, no one would judge. The stuff is that good. That is why we make and freeze several gallons of it each year on the Farm, but like all good things, they come to an end. And this year the end came particularly early. It came in the way of asking Hannah to grab a container of Sauce from the freezer after which came the dreaded statement of there is no more. The Farmer’s Wife sighed but resigned herself to the lesser of the two: The Winter Sauce.

In the Winter, the garden does not produce perfectly round juicy little tomatoes. There are no peppers, hot or sweet. There is still a carrot or two in the ground, but the garlic and onions have all been set to rest. Therefore, the Farmer’s Wife has to im-pro-vise. And this is how it’s done: Two cans of crushed tomatoes,28 oz. each (yes, the kind purchased from a store) are poured into a pan. The Farmer’s Wife still has plenty of frozen chicken stock, so that is added as well. If you don’t have access to chicken stock made from your own chickens roasted alongside carrots, celery, and onions, then covered in water and set a boiling, you may substitute store boughten stock, four cups. If you can, go for the bone broth. That is the closest you’ll get to how it’s made on the Farm. The Farmer’s Wife cheats a bit here and adds a half cup sugar—it’s the only way it’ll come close enough to the sweetness of Summer Sauce to be an acceptable substitute. Now, she did have the foresight to dry many of her hot peppers, so a pepper of the cayenne variety goes in the pot as well. A teaspoon of dried cayenne pepper may be substituted. This is all simmered and occasionally stirred until thick, at which time the pepper is removed (if you used a whole) and dried oregano, basil, and thyme is added, two teaspoons each. In a separate pan, sauté up a bit (five cloves) of minced garlic in some olive oil (a quarter cup). Now, don’t let it go and get brown on you! Nothing tastes worse than burnt garlic. The second it starts to smell like a bit of heaven on earth, scrap the pan into the Sauce—don’t let it go a minute more. Trust the Farmer’s Wife on this. She once sat at the feet of an aged Italian grandma and jotted down a note or two on Sauce making, and this was the point said grandma drove home the hardest: don’t burn that garlic.

Now, stir it a bit. Taste it. Does it need salt? Pepper? If so, add it. If you’ve never had the Summer Sauce, then you’re probably thinking it tastes great. It’s thick and rich, sweet and just a bit spicy. Savory even, from that chicken stock. Well, good for you. Here on the Farm they choke it down, and dream of the days of fresh tomatoes of the sweet and rich varieties, a pepper both hot and sweet…