getting sauced

One of the things that Burton and I have shared, since as early as our second date (see number 21 of this post, is a blind but profound love for the empire of produce known as Whole Foods. In fact, you could trace our relationship through the aisles we've frequented: from the Fresh Fields in upper-northwest DC, where like pilgrims to Mecca we were drawn every night, to the sprawling Bread and Circus in Newton and now the Whole Foods in Fresh Pond (although the River Street location, with its wine department and oversized cheese section, is preferred for weekend trips).

When, in far-away offices, their team of marketers suggest, "Let's get some actors in dirty overalls in here and charge $5 a pop for these Vermont-grown potatoes," our mouths start watering and words like "rosti" spring to mind and we run to the nearest Whole Foods, not understanding our urgent need for potatoes but powerless to deny it. We are totally their bitches.

So one day about five years ago, fingering the goods in the Newton store, we stumbled on what--even in Whole Paycheck--seemed impossible: a $10 jar of tomato sauce. Is it mispriced? No? Then it must be from the last batch of award-winning sauce made by someone's Italian great-grandmother before her death, whereupon the secret recipe expired with her. No? Then what's the big fucking deal with this sauce?

As we stood there, reading the ingredients and trying to make sense of the madness, a woman walked by. "It is worth every. penny." She paused, reached for a jar from the shelf, and repeated it. "Every. penny." Since we are, as I have suggested, card-carrying suckas, we bought a jar. And it was, I must say, really good.

Fast-forward to present day: I am shopping at the less-overpriced grocery store in town when I see my old $10 friend on the shelf. In a moment of weakness, I put it in my cart. But this time, the taste isn't nearly as write-homeable. Maybe it's me. Maybe they've changed the recipe. Or maybe it's because now we're a nation at war. Anyway, the love affair is over.

In its place, I would like to leave you with this recipe, with credit to Marcella Hazan, for The Best Sauce This Side of the Pond. Make extra, because you'll be eating it with a spoon.

Put a 28-ounce can of tomatoes and their juices in a pot with a medium onion, cut in half, and five tablespoons of butter (for the love of all that is fatty and good, do NOT use olive oil and do NOT skimp on the butter). Cook uncovered at a gentle simmer for about 45 minutes, stirring from time to time. Add salt to taste. Before serving, discard the onion and whiz it up in a food processor. Or don't. But do charge your friends. $10 a bottle seems like a good starting point.