Sorry, but you’ve been making spaghetti bolognese all wrong – for this simple reason

A Northern Irish food writer landed in hot water this week when he shared his recipe for spaghetti bolognese. But what did he get wrong about the iconic Italian pasta dish and how do you really make it? Hannah Twiggs looks at the dos and the do nots under any circumstances

Tag bol?: Tagliatelle – not spaghetti – is the traditional pasta for bolognese (Alamy)

If there’s one rule above all in cooking, it’s don’t offend the Italians.

No mean feat considering even they can’t decide on an “official” recipe for anything. Every family, region and nonna has their own version, which basically means that a good general rule of thumb is to assume that you’re getting it wrong.

And Northern Irish food writer James Pollock did get it wrong – publicly – when he shared his recipe for bolognese on Twitter/X.

Really, the error was taking to a social media platform to talk about an “iconic Italian pasta dish” with a surname like Pollock. But the commenters took umbrage with the ingredients, the method and the fact he’d even called it a bolognese or Italian, apparently.

“Noo my friend, nooo you got the order completely wrong! And the pancetta... I mean, wow, that takes guts,” wrote Giacomo B. “Many mistakes!” declared Elena. “Please do not say this is an Italian dish,” warned Maria, and, my personal favourite, “Sweet Jesus, again, this is not bolognese,” from Guido Cimoli.

Cultural appropriation has its place in cookery – cough, Jamie Oliver, cough, jerk rice – but with a history as varied as bolognese sauce, the phrase “Allora!” comes to mind. After all, they nicked it from the French.

The earliest mention of bolognese was in 1891 from Alberto Alvisi, the cook to the Cardinal of Imola. Alvisi’s ragu, derived from the French stew ragout, called for lean veal fillet along with pancetta, butter, onion and carrot, and served on maccheroni, today’s macaroni. Needless to say, a far cry from the bolognese, spaghetti or otherwise, that we know and love today.

The meats and vegetables were to be finely minced, cooked with butter until browned, then covered and cooked with broth. At the time, no tomatoes were included, but dried mushrooms, truffle, chicken liver or cream could be added for taste. Artusi recommended a medium-sized pasta made from durum wheat, to be made fresh and cooked until firm. Parmesan, then and now, was advised.

It wasn’t until as recently as 1982 that any official recipe was recognised, by the Accademia Italiana della Cucina, an organisation dedicated to preserving the culinary history of Italy. The academy’s recipe, now ragù alla bolognese, confines the ingredients to beef cut from the plate section, fresh unsmoked pancetta, onions, carrot, celery, passata (or tomato puree), meat broth, dry white wine, milk, salt and pepper.

Of course, the Americans have since got involved, and debates rage even among native Italian chefs over which meats to use (beef, pork or veal), the possible inclusion of cured meats or offal, which fats should be used for sauteing (olive or vegetable oil, butter or rendered pork fat), what form of tomato should be employed (fresh, tinned, passata or paste) and the makeup of cooking liquids (red or white wine, milk, tomato juices, stock).

As bolognese spread around the globe, its ingredients and methods quickly changed to suit the times (Getty)

Almost all recipes eschew garlic and herbs, other than the parsimonious use of bay leaves by some. Seasoning is limited to salt, pepper and possibly a pinch of nutmeg. Meat is the main vehicle (ragu means a meaty sauce, after all), while tomatoes, in whatever form you choose, are only an auxiliary ingredient.

Spaghetti bolognese, or spag bol as it’s fondly known by families across the UK doing the weekly food shop on a shoestring, is more of a modern iteration, which perhaps evolved in the context of early 20th-century emigration of southern Italians to the Americas, or in immigrant restaurants in post-war Britain. Either way, it’s generally derided as “inauthentic” for the use of spaghetti – simply not a great vehicle for a meaty ragu sauce – and other myriad unacceptable ingredients like garlic, herbs, stock and red wine. It’s actually closer to a Neapolitan ragu.

In short, there’s still no definitive ruling on bolognese, other than you can definitively do it however you like, but keep your DMs closed.

As author and food writer Felicity Cloake says: “To be worthy of the name, it should respect the traditions of the area.” So, with that in mind, I’ve done what Pollock should have from the start: googled it.

Unfortunately for garlic lovers (anyone else put eight cloves in when it says two?), it’s true that traditional recipes are short on aromatics and seasoning, bar the odd bay leaf and a pinch of nutmeg.

Anthony Bourdain’s recipe was more traditional, featuring sauteed chicken livers (AP)

One of the main issues with Pollock’s method was the browning of the meat before cooking the soffritto. Traditionally, finely chopped onions, carrots and celery (the holy trinity of a soffritto) are sauteed in fat – some prefer butter but for bolognese, people generally agree extra virgin olive oil is best – until golden and caramelised to add depth of flavour and fragrance, before you add the meats. soffritto is the basis of myriad dishes in Italian cuisine, so one worth mastering.

The choice of meats is a divisive one, too. Writers mostly agree that an equal mix of beef and pork mince is best for flavour and fat content, while some, such as the late Anthony Bourdain, do 25 per cent pork, 25 per cent veal, and 50 per cent beef. Bourdain, and others, also saute chopped chicken livers to add depth, creaminess and body to the bolognese (though you can soak it in milk beforehand if you are that averse to the flavour of liver). The accessibility of veal and chicken liver in your area will naturally affect your decision, but 50-50 beef and pork will do.

On tomatoes, passata is generally considered to be the best option for the right consistency. The unpredictability of the quality of tomatoes in the UK depending on the season also makes passata the better option, though tinned tomatoes, blended into a puree, will work just as well.

White, perhaps surprisingly to some, is the traditional wine used in bolognese, as you don’t want anything too tannic to lend the sauce a bitter edge. Its primary role is to lend acidity and background flavour. Save the sangiovese for drinking.

Milk is considered to be a magical ingredient when it comes to bolognese. The lactic acid and calcium help to tenderise the meat, balance the wine, and create a creamier texture, similar to adding yoghurt to curry.

And, lastly, the choice of pasta. Bolognese is traditionally served over a flat, thick pasta like tagliatelle or fettuccine, which is the best vehicle for soaking up the sauce and collecting the meat on your fork.

I have no doubt I’ll be called a heretic, but the below recipe is as authentic as this born-and-raised Hertfordshire gal can make it, and hopefully might avoid a Twitter argument.

The ultimate traditional bolognese recipe

Serves: 6-8

Prep time: 15 minutes | Cooking time: 1 hour 30 minutes

Ingredients:

For the soffritto:

2 tbsp olive oil

1 onion, finely chopped

1 carrot, finely chopped

1 celery stalk, finely chopped

For the bolognese:

150g chicken livers, trimmed of connective tissue and fat, finely chopped

450g beef mince

450g pork mince (or 225g veal, 225g pork)

240ml (1 cup) dry white wine

480g passata

1 or 2 fresh or dried bay leaves

450ml chicken stock (optional to loosen the sauce – freeze the leftovers in ice cube trays)

240ml (1 cup) whole milk

Salt and pepper to taste

To serve:

Tagliatelle or fettucine (around 56g of dried pasta per person)

Freshly grated parmesan cheese

Fresh basil

Method:

1. Prepare the soffritto

Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan over a medium heat. Add the chopped onion, carrot and celery to the pan. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are softened and golden but not browned (about 8-10 minutes). This is your soffritto.

2. Cook the meat

Add the beef, pork and, if using, veal mince to the pan with the soffritto. Use a wooden spoon to break up the meat and cook until browned and cooked through (about 8-10 minutes).

3. Deglaze with white wine

Pour the white wine into the pan, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Let it simmer until the wine has reduced by half – about 5 minutes.

4. Add passata and simmer

Stir in the passata and bay leaves, season with salt and pepper, and bring the sauce to a simmer.

5. Simmer the sauce

Reduce the heat to low and let the sauce simmer gently, uncovered, stirring occasionally, for about 1 to 1.5 hours, or until it thickens to your desired consistency. If the sauce becomes too thick, you can add a splash of water or chicken stock.

6. Finish with milk

Pour in the milk and stir to combine. Let the sauce simmer for an additional 10-15 minutes. The milk will help mellow the acidity of the tomatoes and add richness to the sauce.

7. Cook the pasta

Simultaneously with the last step, cook your pasta according to the package instructions.

8. Serve

Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed. Serve over the pasta, grate some parmesan on top and use a couple of basil leaves to garnish. Don’t post it on Twitter.

Buon appetito!