Ham ’n’ sauce

I bet some remnant of Christmas still lurks somewhere in your kitchen. A wedge of Edam cheese, perhaps? How about fruitcake? Thankfully, the only person who gives us fruitcake is the only one who matters — Ma’s Tita Pina. Sometimes we argue among ourselves if this year’s cake is the same as last year’s, but there is never enough of it to settle the matter to everyone’s satisfaction, it’s that good. How many fruitcakes have you received that inspired no more than an uncharitable thought about the giver?

But I’m being querulous. Let’s talk ham instead. There’s a ball and a half (Purefoods brand) in our freezer. And no, they’re not “expired,” although they might as well be, the way I have been ignoring them. See, I have this thing about ham (and turkey, for that matter). I like it enough to have on two or three occasions, and then I’m all cloyed out. There are a lot of recipes for making use of leftover ham; they say it infuses a dish with its distinct flavor and aroma. And they’re absolutely right: I get a whiff of ham and I’m out of there. Too soon for me, thank you. Maybe next Christmas.

There is a way to use up that ham, though. Mothers have been doing it since time immemorial to trick children into eating their vegetables. It sounds silly, I know — disguising ham(!) — but there you are. And to do that we enlist the help of the ever-reliable tomato. Yes, Virginia — we are talking Bolognese sauce!

Just so you know, I did some research before I wrote this post, figuring it could not hurt to actually know my pasta sauces (the tomato-based ones, at least), especially when confronted with a menu that has no accompanying pictures or descriptions. “Which is better, you think — the puttanesca or the pomodoro?” your date asks. And there you are, thinking: Oh, I’ll be damned if I know the difference. Do you? To begin with, it helps to distinguish between pasta sauces with meat in them and those without. Come learn with me.

In the meatless group, we start with the pomodoro. It’s the most basic (pomodoro = tomato). Think fresh tomatoes, fresh herbs, and olive oil. If your order falls short in that regard, send it back. Really. Have they no shame? And they call their restaurant Italian! Do this with a smile, by the way. It’s not the server’s fault, and you don’t want him putting anything funny in your drink.

Puttanesca. Also meatless, somewhat salty and piquant (from capers, olives, anchovies, garlic, and chili pepper, give/take an ingredient). As for the association with the world’s oldest profession, I think of it thus: the last thing a hooker wants to see when she sits down to eat is more meat. Okay, not really. Can we at least agree anchovy is not meat?

Also, puttanesca is said to have been adapted from marinara, which, despite the name, may or may not contain seafood. But marinara is used to flavor seafood — as well as rice, pizza, and, of course, pasta. Confused? Don’t be. Keep in mind that marinara lends itself to many dishes, while puttanesca is unique to pasta. Savor the irony.

Then there’s arrabbiata, which means “angry” in Italian. Forget that and think Arabia. Think hot. As in spicy, from the chili pepper. I have yet to see this on a menu.

And on to meat sauces (or what Italians call ragù), the most famous of which is Bolognese. It’s the sauce every Filipino knows, in most cases probably the only, with beef and/or pork, tomatoes, onions, carrots, celery, wine, broth, and spices. However, there is no such creature as “authentic” Bolognese spaghetti: Italians never, ever serve Bolognese sauce (or any ragù for that matter) with spaghetti, and vice-versa. The rest of the world does, but not them. Crazy Italians, they have no idea what they’re missing.

To complete the round-up, I should mention Neapolitan ragù, which uses whole cuts of meat and more tomatoes and is sometimes served separately from the pasta. Then there’s the less-known Barese (from Bari), distinctive for sometimes including horse meat.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I have one more thing to tell you. If you don’t have the same problem with ham as I do, don’t waste it on Bolognese sauce. Expensive as it is, ham adds nothing to the taste of the sauce. Nothing new, at least. The overpowering richness of the tomato leaves the ham smelling and tasting like plain old ground pork, which is exactly how I like it. But that’s just me. Otherwise, eat it as originally intended. Chi mangia bene, vive bene.