I am still sans camera, so the words in this post are going to have to do. I may come back and edit in some pictures later. Hopefully I’ll have my little baby back and functioning soon!
This weekend, I took a nice walk from my apartment to Kensington, taking advantage of some of the last nice, sunny days. I did most of my grocery shopping, but the butcher I usually use was closed, and considering the fact that one of the other two smelled like a farm, and the last one was very poorly stocked and didn’t have what I was looking for, I went down a few more blocks along College to Little Italy.
When I first moved to Toronto, last year, one of the first things I did was to hit the city’s website (toronto.ca) and look for Little Italy. I’ve always felt that no matter where I go, the Italian neighbourhood of a city will always feel somewhat like home.
I spent a lot of time in Little Italy last year, mostly because it was so close to home. I did most of my grocery shopping at the Magnolia Specialty Foods Store, which I sadly discovered this weekend was closed. A little more expensive than most grocery stores, Magnolia made up for it in quality. All of the name brand olive oils I recognized, San Marzano canned tomatoes from Italy, and beautiful produce filled the small store, and I know it will be missed by the entire neighbourhood (a lady who was reading the notice with me shared my sentiments).
That is one of the nice things about Little Italy; much like the country it’s named for, the people who live here are friendly even to strangers. People are known to hang out in Caffe Diplomatico and meet random strangers while enjoying a piece of pizza or an espresso and biscotto.
I finally arrived at my destination, Grace’s Meat Market, at Grace and College to procure ground veal. I walked up to the counter and asked about it, and the woman behind the counter looked at me, pondering, and then called into the back in Italian. A man in a white butcher’s coat came out and looked at me, repeating my order, “Ground veal?”
“Yes,” I answered, worried that I had come all this way in vain.
He looked at me one more moment, then rolled up his sleeves and asked, “How much?”
The fact that this tiny meat market will grind meat to order for customers, even such a paltry amount as I needed, reminded me why I love this community. I brought my wares straight home and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening making my bolognese sauce, canning most of it, but serving some over some artisinal orecchiete that I picked up at Grace’s.
Orecchiete Bolognese
As with most recipes that have been passed down, there is really no exact recipe to this. Taste as you go, and if something doesn’t taste right, adjust. Here’s a jumping off point, to get you started.
Brown half a pound of ground veal in extra-virgin olive oil in a sturdy dutch-oven or similar large pot. Remove the veal and keep it warm. Sweat one sweet onion, finely chopped, and one carrot, also finely chopped, in the same pot, until very tender and sweet. Season with salt, pepper, dried oregano, and dried red pepper flakes. Use a pair of kitchen shears to cut up the contents of two cans of whole San Marzano tomatoes and add them to the pot. Add a tablespoon of tomato paste and a teaspoon of sugar. Bring to a simmer, then reduce the heat to low and cook, uncovered, stirring from time to time. Once the tomatoes have mostly broken down, add the cooked meat, and cook for an hour or two. Sauce can be stored in tupperware in the fridge for a week, or canned and frozen (or kept in the cellar).
When ready to serve, heat the sauce in a saucepan while your pasta cooks in salted water. Add a little bit of cream to the sauce, and stir in the hot pasta. Serve with grated Parmesan or Pecorino cheese.
