browning meat greatly diminishes the quality of its texture,
turning it gritty and tough rather than silken smooth and
rich. There’s so much flavor concentration and boosting
going on in this sauce that there’s really no need to build
flavor through browning.
In addition to the ground meat, I like to add a few chicken
livers, which are traditionally called for in ragù Bolognese
intended for special occasions. Frankly, if I’m putting in the
time to make a sauce this complex, whatever occasion it is
had best make itself special. Finely chopping the livers in
the food processor before cooking helps them to melt into
the sauce in a seamless way, adding their flavor without
chunks of liver that can be off-putting to some.
As a meat sauce, Bolognese is virtually an exercise in
umami, so I’ve added a few extra ingredients to my sauce—
umami bombs—to up the savoriness. The usual suspects are
here: anchovies, Marmite, and soy sauce are glutamate
powerhouses. Then a few cubes of pancetta cooked down at
the beginning and dash of Thai or Vietnamese fish sauce
stirred in at the end of cooking add another element:
inosinate, a naturally occurring chemical that works to
increase the savory effect of glutamates (see “Glutamates,
Inosinates, and the Umami Bombs,” here). Don’t worry, it
won’t taste fishy!
Getting Saucy
A Bolognese should not be tomato sauce with meat in it. In
fact, some recipes (like the extremely austere version in the
classic Silver Spoon cookbook) don’t call for tomatoes at
all, or perhaps just a squeeze of paste. I prefer the sweetness