As some of you may or may not know, I'm not the impossible vegetarian I once was. Outside of the hormones, additives, and fillers of the American food system, I've discovered that I actually quite like beef. That, and it's terribly unsociable to be a full-on vegetarian here, though I still don't eat pork even if it is considered a vegetable in Vietnam.
When I said, Let me cook you dinner on Thursday, what would you like?, I was caught off guard when it wasn't a soup. Spaghetti bolognese, a good, homemade spaghetti bolognese. Only spaghetti, none of those weird other pastas. Imagine my broken heart at missing my beloved penne. Please note, I've since discovered that a heartier pasta is in fact better for this dish, I would have been right to use penne over spaghetti, but it still turned out deliciously.Searching for recipes, as mom never cooked this either, raising us heavily vegetarian, I didn't come across anything that would take less than three hours. How's a girl that spreads her day with tasks spread throughout supposed to allot 3+ hours to cooking PASTA?! I sucked it up, realising plenty of women in the world with full-time jobs and little mouths to feed do this all the time, when all I had to do was an hour of freelance work, two hours of tutoring and 30 minutes of reading at the news station.
Finishing my freelance work, I dragged myself to the market and fresh meat stall. This is arguably the cheapest dish I've made yet. The most fun and equally disconcerting shopping portion was explaining to the "butcher" that I wanted ground beef. I looked up the Vietnamese phrase and I'm still not sure she gave me the right amount. I wanted to take a photo of her chopping it up as she didn't actually have a grinder and had to cut it over and over again until it resembled ground meat, but didn't in the end because I'm never sure about those sorts of social cues. One might argue that her way of cutting it is actually healthier than truly ground meat and I would agree (knowing absolutely nothing about what I'm talking about).
Around 11:30 I dove into the washing, peeling, cutting, pouring, and simmering of it all. The recipe called for milk, which I only used half of what it suggested, as well as white wine, but we only had left over red from Valentine's Day, which also seems to have worked just fine. I added some Italian seasoning with extra oregano as well as a fresh chili, even though no true Italian would ever actually do this according to the internets. This chili would come back to haunt us as it wasn't the smallest of the pack and only gets spicier as days go by. Also, I have a stronger tolerance for spice than Dan does.
Having only simmered for two and a half of the four hours, I really have to head out to the news station. So I do, leaving it turned off on the stove. I rush back, taste it again to see how the chili's doing along with my added Italian spice and I realise I'm going to be chastised for not adding enough salt, yet another thing we didn't really have much of growing up and so I don't especially miss it when it's gone. Adding a bit more, I let it simmer for another hour before heading out to tutor.
I come home to find it well taste tested and a very hungry mister You could have put the pasta on yourself, you know? I chided. Only then remembering how bloody long it actually takes for pasta to cook - a watched pot truly never boils.
Not quite as beefy as a true meat-eater might like, it was still quite hearty with minced carrot, onion, and celery. Over the next few days it ripened even more (as well as got spicier) and quickly disappeared from the fridge. This is the first dish I've made that I think I'll repeat. Unfortunately the recipe for this is locked away on my kindle... which turns out to be a very handy kitchen tool!
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