Katherine's Spagetti Sauce

This might be a little difficult.  There is really no recipe.  It often depends on what is available in my pantry. It's for a bolognese of sorts, learned from an Italian woman in Indianola, Iowa.  In 1975. Weird.  I know.  The key to any good spaghetti sauce is long slow cooking and plenty of seasonings.  And chopped pepperoni.  Begin with onions and garlic and potentially bell peppers if you have them.  Saute them in olive oil until they are really caramelized.  Not just sort of mushy, but caramelized. If you want meat, at this point add whatever meat you prefer (we like good homegrown ground beef) and brown. Do not drain the grease. This is not for wussy health nuts.  Add the pepperoni -- a hefty couple of hands full. Add some juicy canned tomatoes, a couple of big cans and a can of ordinary tomato sauce.  At this juncture in life I have to use petite diced tomatoes because the grands are picky about chunks of tomato (oh who am I kidding, so is most of the family -- knotheads).  Add a little tomato paste for zingy tomato flavor and then liberally add the following:
basil
oregano
thyme
red pepper flakes (well, don't be too liberal with these or your grandchildren will complain)
salt
black pepper
2 bay leaves, at least (take these out later unless you want your grandchildren to completely freak out).
If you're feeling adventurous, put in a pinch of nutmeg.  I like nutmeg in everything.
I also usually add just a pinch of cayenne because I like things a smidge spicy (either that or I'm getting old and my taste buds are shot and I need the extra flavor to feel alive).
At this point in the project I am working solely on taste.  Bear in mind that things are going to meld and become richer and more flavorful as you simmer.  Simmer. A long time.  Like all afternoon.  Let it get good and thick and then add some broth (really any liquid will do -- you could probably even get away with a little white wine, but bear in mind it will evaporate and you'll need more broth sooner).  Simmer some more.  Add some more broth.  Taste and stir fairly often.  You house is going to smell divine.  Finally, cook your spaghetti and then -- this is key -- mix the sauce and spaghetti together and let them get good and comfortable with each other.  Serve with grated Parmesan.  We don't have to be snobby about this.
Does that help?  I am hopelessly bad about recipes and a chronic no-measurer.  When Christine moved out I had to hunt down some measuring utensils because I had lost mine.
Remember, practice makes perfect and while you are perfecting your recipe you are going to get to eat some darn good spaghetti.
Katherine
 
**oh and you can also put in a little sugar if you like a sweeter sauce. I don't particularly.
** And, okay, not so liberal with the black pepper. You know, to taste, not to extremes.