Meet the real Bolognese: the authentic Italian ragu

Byline:Â Pamela Parseghian

Bolognese has an image problem. Though the sauce appears on many menus, most diners have never tasted the real thing.

“That is the famous Italian sauce that everybody makes, but it’s one of the dishes that they bastardize,” says Bert Cutino, chief operating officer and co-founder of the Sardine Factory in Monterey, Calif.

An authentic ragu alla Bolognese is a rich, thick and complex combination of flavorful meats that are braised with a mirepoix, some sort of dairy product, such as milk or cream, and an earthy spice like nutmeg or cinnamon. Some include such luxurious touches as wild mushrooms, cured pancetta and truffles.

“People think of it as just a tomato sauce with meat,” says Rick Moonen, chef of RM in Las Vegas. “It has gotten pedestrian-ized.”

Bolognese is “seemingly easier than pie, yet it’s all based on how you do it,” explained chef Mario Batali on the “Fresh Air” public radio show from station WHYY based in Philadelphia. Batali noted that the techniques he learned for preparing the dish were among the most valuable he brought back with him from a scouting trip in Italy. Since then, the dish has become a signature at Batali’s Italian-theme restaurants in New York–Babbo, Lupa and Del Posto.

Also interested in unlocking the secret of the sauce, or ragu as it’s called in Italy, was chef Luke Palladino of Specchio and Ombra restaurants at the Borgata Casino in Atlantic City, N.J. While working in Piedmont, Italy, Palladino took every opportunity he found to seek out the real thing, especially in Bologna, where the dish was born. “I was on a Bolognese kick,” he says. The search “confirmed that the dish has greatness,” he adds. “I figured there had to be something better” than the ubiquitous tomato sauce with hamburger meat commonly served even in Italy.

Ragu alla Bolognese is a descendent of France’s ragout, a rich meat stew. “Emilia-Romagna had an affinity for French culinary style” during the Renaissance, writes Italian culinary historian John Mariani in “The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink.” He also explains that, by the 18th century, the term referred to a meat sauce with cinnamon and pepper that was served on pasta. Bologna is the capital of Emilia-Romagna.

Today, Bolognese recipes, like most classic dishes, vary from country to country, town to town, house to house. Palladino says each recipe is “sacred.” His ragu is “a combination of my experiences,” he says.

Palladino selects pork shoulder, veal breast and beef chuck because he says “they are the best braising cuts and give the most flavor.” He cuts off some excess fat from the breast and removes silver skins or tough membranes. And by grinding the meat himself, he controls what actually makes it in the mix.

To start cooking his critically acclaimed sauce, Palladino sautes diced pancetta in butter and olive oil and then adds the house-ground beef, veal and pork. Once the meat browns, he turns the heat down and stirs in minced onions, celery and carrots, rosemary, nutmeg and a sachet of cinnamon sticks and cloves. After the mirepoix colors slightly, he adds reconstituted, diced porcini mushrooms and their strained juices. He deglazes with white wine and reduces the liquids until almost dry. Then he pours in whole tomatoes that have been passed through a food mill and cooks the mixture, covered, for about an hour over low heat. Gradually he pours in chicken or beef stock and milk. He uses about twice the amount each of milk and stock compared with the quantity of tomato. When the meat becomes tender, he uncovers the pot and reduces the mixture until thick.

In Ombra restaurant, Palladino serves ragu over house-made semolina rigatoni for $19. At the more upscale Specchio, the same sauce naps house-made tagliatelle egg pasta, which is prepared with 40 egg yolks to each kilo of flour. The dish is $24.

Batali also picks rich, moist cuts of meat–shoulder of veal, beef and pork in equal proportions–and says that reducing the sauce slowly is a necessary process. His signature ragu is offered at Del Posto with garganelli verdi now at a discounted price of $16 on Sunday nights and $20 during the rest of the week.

Moonen recently added a classic Bolognese over bow-tie pasta for $24 to his 12-item, seafood-focused menu. And while he notes the sauce is a “grossly misrepresented classic,” he occasionally does his own thing and cooks up excess lobster into lobster “Bolognese” with a creamy tomato sauce, which includes basil, parsley, a little kombu, which is dry kelp, and Darjeeling tea powder for an $18 starter or a $28 main course.

A less re-engineered rendition of the ragu is on the menu at Wolfgang Puck Grand Cafe at Walt Disney World. There, Grandma Puck’s “Bolognese” fettuccine, $15.95, includes the classic sauce in two parts. A tomato-based with a Parmesan cream sauce, according to executive sous chef Keith Schockling. Therefore diners can order just the cream and cheese or meat sauce, if desired.

Carla Pellegrino, corporate chef of the 116-year-old Rao’s in New York’s Harlem neighborhood and Baldoria in the city’s theater district, also provides guests with what they want and are most familiar with. She sometimes offers a classic Bolognese for a special, but regularly features a $25 version without the traditional dairy reduction, porcini or nutmeg, and her guests eat the tomato based sauce “like water.”

“It’s unbelievable,” says Pellegrino, who grew up in Italy. “In America people love meat. They don’t make Bolognese at home and they cannot get it in the supermarket.” Soon Rao’s Bolognese will be available in Las Vegas, where Pellegrino plans to open a 230-seat restaurant and bar in Caesars Palace toward the end of this year.

Regardless of how Bolognese is made, it is beloved around the world and has even made it to the menu at McDonald’s. Australian McDonald’s units recently rolled out a beef Bolognese over penne that’s priced between $7.95 and $8.95. The chain did not release the recipe.

pparsegh@nrn.com