Recipe below: A Quick Winter Ragù with Sausage, Rosemary, Fennel, and a Splash of Cream
I find winter supermarket shopping bleak. No Greenmarket cantaloupes, no backyard beefsteaks. As a picky, bordering on really picky, food shopper, I try to keep my supermarket visits down to maintenance only—onions, carrots, celery, broccoli, milk, plastic packs of somewhat fresh herbs, decent grana Padano, but definitely not a terrible thing called American fontina, which I bought once out of desperation and never again. Most of the lettuce is okay, but the other day I sniffed a pile of really good looking escarole and it smelled oddly like the mildewy inside of a bathing cap. I can’t imagine how that could be. Am I just a super snotty shopper who brings on her own depression? I know this sounds exaggerated, but a package of rotten, I mean really smelly, chicken I bought a few days ago literally had me in tears. Angry tears.
I’ve stopped buying fresh Italian sausage at supermarkets because I’ve been burned too many times, not only because of the sour, industrial quality of much of it, and problems with the pork industry in general, but also because half the time it’s rotten. I mean it stinks. If you’re going to sell mass-produced, processed ground meat, it might as well be fresh. Don’t you think? Evidently my 14th Street grocery store doesn’t think so. Sell-by dates have little meaning over there. And don’t get me started on their chicken rotation, or nonrotation. If you’re going to bother to stock phony free-range chicken, you may as well keep it fresh. And when the cashier asks if I want my receipt? Damn right, I want it. You’ll be seeing me back here with that high-stinking chicken in no time. The whole thing is so frustrating.
I really should make my own Italian sausage. It’s easy, and it feels really good. I think I’ll start again soon. I wish I had kept my grandmother’s meat grinder. It was an old hand-cranked thing that clamped on to a table and looked ancient and beautiful to my eyes. I had it in my college dorm room for a while. I’m not sure why I brought it there. Maybe back then I thought of it as found art. Not sure.
So this winter I walk miles through New York sleet, wind, and deep freeze to get myself a decent sausage. Actually I don’t have to go all that far, usually just over to Faicco’s, on Bleecker Street, about 15 blocks away, a fun slide on ice-slicked sidewalks (I also trudge over there for my tripe, the only place I can find it anymore). And the surprise is that Faicco’s good, fresh sausage doesn’t cost any more than the supermarket’s rotten one.
I’ve spent much of this winter in Italian food shops, the few that are left in downtown Manhattan. I can find excellent house-made mozzarella at a place called Sergimmo on Sixth Avenue. They also carry a Sicilian primo sale I can’t find anywhere else. I love Buon’Italia in the Chelsea Market. They’ve also make good fresh sausage, and it’s where I buy my cotechino for New Year’s Day. And they carry a huge selection of Setaro dried pasta. There’s a new caffè on Perry Street, right behind the Village Vanguard, that’s run by a Tuscan food exporter called Sogno Toscano, and it carries porchetta, bresaola, speck, guanciale, lardo, culatello, pecorino aged in grape must, pickled artichokes and eggplant, and good canned tomatoes. It is a wonderful addition to the neighborhood, and boldly opened right in the middle of Covid. I haven’t made it down to Di Palo’s in Little Italy yet this winter, but I will. I’m also planning a trip to Arthur Avenue in the Bronx to stock up on pantry staples like capers and anchovies and olives and dried sausage, all at really good prices. I can mostly keep my bad self out the supermarket, if I try.
If you can make or otherwise get your hands on some high-quality Italian pork sausage, I advise you to cook this dish. Most ragù sauces take at least two hours of long simmering. This sausage version will be ready in about 40 minutes. I know you’ve seen me use a blend of rosemary and fennel before. I return to it again and again. It’s worth it for its intrinsic beauty, especially when it comes to winter cooking.
A Quick Winter Ragù with Sausage, Rosemary, Fennel, and a Splash of Cream
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 fennel bulb, cored and cut into small dice, the fronds all saved and chopped
A palmful of fennel seeds
1 fresh bay leaf
1 large sweet onion, cut into small dice
1 large carrot, cut into small dice
4 or 5 very thin slices soppressata or another good salami, finely diced (this is optional, but nice you if have the meat on hand)
About ½ pound fresh Italian sausage (I used 3 medium sausages), the casings removed and the meat pulled into pieces (and if you’ve got fennel seeds in yours, you might want to omit the fennel seeds in the recipe, or use less)
5 or 6 big fresh (not dried) rosemary sprigs, the leaves well chopped
Salt
Black pepper
A big pinch of sugar
½ glass dry white wine
1 35-ounce can good Italian tomatoes, well chopped (if they’re swimming in tomato purée, I drain some off—to me it always makes a sauce too homogenized-feeling)
1 cup chicken broth
½ cup heavy cream
1 pound rigatoni or ziti or penne pasta
Pecorino Toscano cheese for grating
Get out a large sauté pan or casserole fitted with a lid. Add a big drizzle of olive oil over medium heat. When it’s hot, add the fennel and its fronds, fennel seeds, bay leaf, onion, carrot, and diced soppressata. Let it sauté until everything is fragrant, about 4 minutes or so. Add the sausage and the rosemary, and season it all with salt and black pepper and the sugar. Keep sautéing, breaking up the sausage into smaller pieces with a spoon, until the sausage starts to brown, probably about another 5 minutes. Add the white wine, and let it bubble for a few seconds. Add the tomatoes and the chicken broth. Let it all come to a boil. Turn the heat down a notch, and cover the pot, letting everything simmer gently until it all comes together in a fragrant, slightly suspending looking sauce. This should take about 40 minutes. You’ll want to stir it around every so often as it cooks.
Uncover the pot, and add the cream, stirring it in. Let it simmer, uncovered, for a few minutes, just to blend all the flavors. Give it a taste and adjust the seasoning.
Now you’re ready to cook your pasta al dente and toss it with the ragù. I think a nice pecorino Toscano is the best cheese for this. It’s more assertive than Parmigiano, but less sharp that a pecorino Romano.
Erica De Mane 
This sounds wonderful!
Thanks. It’s pretty good.
Erica, thought you would like to know that Delilah, whom I hired to come to our apt and cook Saturdays, is going to make this dish on Saturday. I’m excited it will be fun. I give her two recipes to make on Saturday afternoons at our house. It’s fun because I can nap; she chats with Joe and plays with the dog and watches her movies and stuff on her iPad while she cooks. She cleans up after herself and has been a pleasure. I pay her well because she is broke since her boyfriend moved out and she has to pay the total rent.then we have nice food for the week. We’ll let you know how it comes out but if she follows the recipe it will!! Can’t wait to have it. And see you guys on the first!!!
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Hi Jane, That sounds like a great arrangement. And tell her she can always text me if she needs help with the cooking. xxE