A Middle Aged Sit Down - Ragu

Recently I went to a gig, now the word gig to me serves up connotations of finding a little unknown band playing in a dingy badly lit club, sweat dripping off the walls and throwing yourself into the middle of the mosh pit.

Well an old friend and me went to see James supported by Echo and The Bunnymen at the O2 in Leeds. Yes they’re hardly ground breaking but no less fantastic. We enjoyed a beer beforehand and to complete the middle aged experience arrived early enough to get a seat.

If you looked hard enough you may have seen me tap a foot, sway from side to side and even at one point sing along as I was temporarily transported back to my youth. I did wake up the next day knackered with a sore back from having to stand through some of the songs. Imagine the state I'd be in if I ventured anywhere near a bloody mosh pit.

Singing and dancing are a definite no no for me, you may have gathered I’m not one to readily let myself go. That is of course unless absolutely leathered at a wedding but the less said about that the better. It’s so bad that I don’t like people I’m with to dance either, Mrs. Vino could be jigging away happily to music in a shop, I’d walk out. I have a very low embarrassment threshold.

The venue was filled with lots of 30 and 40 somethings very similar to me reliving the heady days when they heard the songs for the first time. Everyone was dressed pretty much the same as they would have back then although everything seemed to have shrunk in the wash a little since the early 90’s. Trying to get the toothpaste back in the tube seems an apt way to describe how my fellow patrons were attired.

This experience got me thinking about getting old, well I say got me, the thought has been there for sometime but the gig kind of pushed it more to the forefront.

Don’t worry this isn’t going to be some long diatribe on the meaning of life. To me there isn’t one, you’re born and you die. The stuff in between is pretty much down to you; whatever works to get you through from a to b is ok by me.

I say that but please don’t take this as me advocating law breaking, I hardly think you could use The Vino Defence when the police find 350 stolen microwaves in your garage “but Vino said whatever works”. Sorry my friend you’re doing bird for that one and I'm not baking a cake with a file in it.

As Benjamin Franklin said there are two certainties in this life “death and taxes” not to be confused with “death and taxis”. Although for me there is a certain fatality to that as well, I’ll always get a driver who wants to talk to me for the entire journey and then bend me over to extract £30 for the fare.

No these thoughts of getting old are more to do with achievement rather than a fear of my own mortality. I find myself hurtling toward 40, which in itself doesn’t bother me, it’s more a question of what have I actually achieved in these 40 years?

Now the obvious answer is family, it’s good but it’s not right. So let’s address it.

Mrs. Vino is fantastic and I concede I wouldn’t have had the life experiences, such as moving to the US, without her. But an achievement? 

Granted I’ve definitely punched above my weight with her, short fat miserable northerner marries tall blonde boarding school educated doctor’s daughter from the south.

The girls, N & M achievements?

I love them to death although I do find myself thinking sometimes who the fuck are you? and how did you get into my house?

I don’t think I can count the girls as an achievement, in reality I had very little (stop making your own jokes up) to do with their creation. I was back downstairs before the kettle had time to boil on both occasions.

My main problem is that I’ve never had a clue what I’m doing with my life either at home or work, I generally just bumble along with a laissez faire attitude. Hoping that things turn out for the best  but generally fearing they won't.  If as predicted they don’t I deal with them with all the aptitude of King Canute.

I’ve always had a sense that I’m meant to be doing something of purpose with my life, almost like Clark Kent before the realisation he was actually Superman. Yes it has a slight delusion of grandeur about it but it stems from a dislike of and disdain for the general populous.

What makes achieving things harder is the fact I’m not good at sticking at things. I come up with ideas, plans, some would say fads and then throw myself in with zealous force. This momentum probably lasts for about a month, maybe slightly less and then it’s on to something else.

Therefore if anybody would like to buy any of the following they’re all available at a knock down price: -

5 String Banjo – given up after learning the opening to dueling banjos

Ukulele – given up after not learning any discernable tune

Kite – couldn’t get it to loop the loop

Telescope – couldn’t see in to no.33’s bedroom

In a few years there may be a Canal Boat available – don’t ask

The phrase jack-of-all-trades master of none springs to mind, I can get by in most situations. I do ok at work and can hold a conversation on a number of subjects, being a mine of absolutely mind numbingly useless trivia helps with that. Sport wise I don’t make a complete balls up playing football, tennis or golf, generally I can handle myself.

Actually come to think of it handling myself is something I do excel at, not to blow my own trumpet (you can’t I’ve tried, how do you think I slipped two discs?) Apologies this is probably a digression too far, I don’t want to put my 3 readers off (sorry Mum).

So I suppose the one thing that keeps me from a complete midlife meaning of life meltdown is cooking. I love it and given the choice would spend days on end in the kitchen. Cooking for people and having them enjoy what I make gives me that sense of achievement. Maybe this is my purpose? The kitchen could be my fortress of solitude, wooden spoon in hand, listening to music making a difference one recipe at a time.

This week’s recipe is probably the first thing I ever learnt to cook watching my Dad make it. It’s not radical but it’s good. It isn’t quick either, giving me an excuse to spend more time in the kitchen.

Ragu, Bolognaise, Meat Sauce, Whatever you want to bloody call it.

There are hundreds of recipes for ragu all of which will do the job. I’ve settled on this one, it’s an amalgamation of many and the little twists to it can be attributed to my Genoese sister in law.

Ingredients

500g Beef Mince

500g Pork Mince – for my readers with certain dietary requirements use all beef

200g Cubed Pancetta – once again optional

2 Carrots – chopped

2 Onions – chopped

2 Sticks of Celery – chopped

500ml Stock – Chicken, Beef, Vegetable – whatever you’ve got in the cupboard

Full Fat Milk – a glug (How annoying is that?! A glug what the buggery is a glug?)

2 Tins Chopped Tomatoes

Tomato Puree – about a tablespoon

Tablespoon of Sugar

2 Bay Leaves

Salt and Pepper

Olive Oil

Method

You need a massive frying pan, biggest you’ve got.

Heat a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in the pan.

Add the Onion, Carrot and Celery. Cook over a low to medium heat until the vegetables have softened, this could take 10-15 minutes.

Once softened put the veg on to a plate or a bowl with a slotted spoon so you don’t remove all the oil, leave to one side.

Turn up the heat adding more oil if the pan looks like it needs it.

Add the pancetta, fry for a minute or so and then add the minces.

These need to be fried over a high heat until the meat breaks down and starts to brown.

At this point I tend to pour off the fat, this is entirely up to you and the amount that builds up will depend on the quality of the beef mince you use.

Add the vegetables back to the pan and stir.

Pour in the tins of tomatoes and stir.

Now you put in the stock and milk. The amounts are a little wooly, as you want to fully immerse the mixture with liquid. So about 500ml of stock first. Give it a stir and then add approx. 200ml of milk.

Next put in the tomato puree and stir in, this will help to thicken the sauce.

Season with salt and pepper and add sugar, I always add sugar as it helps with the acidity of the tomatoes. I sprinkle an ad hoc amount, probably a couple of teaspoons. It’s up to you if you want to add the sugar or not.

Finally add the bay leaves and give it a good stir.

Turn the heat down to a really low simmer and leave it for as long as you’ve got. I usually go for 2 hours minimum but more like 3.

This allows the sauce to reduce and the meat to soften.

The recipe makes a shit load (this is actually a culinary term).

Serve it with Spaghetti as standard or whatever pasta, rice, potato accompaniment you wish.

Last week I made a béchamel and did lasagna with it. If you want the béchamel recipe leave a comment and I’ll blog it.

Enjoy.

A