The Great Tomato Gravy Caper

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," Labor Day edition 2019!

In the interest of fair and honest reporting ... I didn't go to the Labor Day parade. I was still recovering from the Great Tomato Gravy Caper.

In Philadelphia and its environs, tomato sauce is called "tomato gravy." I don't know why. Maybe it's because of the consistency of the product.

Every Nonna in every row house in South Philly has her own recipe for tomato gravy. A lot of restaurants around here advertise "spaghetti ala Nonna" or some other dish "ala Nonna."

I'm not a Nonna. My Ancestry DNA says I have some Italian heritage, but I don't know a thing about it. What I do know is that fresh, garden-ripe tomatoes, when simmered simply with a few ingredients, make one damn fine tomato gravy.

I don't have a recipe, except to say that good tomato gravy starts with local produce. This year I was lucky enough to find a market that sold me two big boxes of plum tomatoes for $30.

When I was younger I used to grow my own tomatoes. But I got sick and tired of finding them, just at the moment when I planned to pick them, lying on the ground with one damn bite taken out of them by some critter. Do I look like someone who can build a fence? So I let my whole yard go to organic, free range native plants and looked for places to buy tomatoes.

Making tomato gravy is a long process. I haven't done it for at least five years, because when you have a strenuous summer job, like painting all week for 40 hours, you pretty much spend the weekends flat in the Barca-lounger. But this year, chock full of vim and vigor, I decided to cook and freeze tomato gravy!

The four batches last weekend went off without a hitch. My daughter The Fair came over to sample, and I noticed that she pecked a little bit at a smallish chunk of tomato. Well, a true Nonna wouldn't ever permit her gravy to have chunks in it! So this weekend I added a step to the process.

After the gravy had cooked and cooled, I flipped it into the blender and pulsed for a half second. Voila! Gravy smooth as silk!

I'll bet you can predict where this is going.

This weekend, I had the pleasure of having Fair back to dinner, along with my other daughter, the Heir, and Heir's boyfriend. Oh boy! Fresh spaghetti and tomato gravy with meatballs! Everyone was stoked.

Except 30 minutes before suppertime, I flipped the gravy into the blender, and ... I think maybe it was a little too hot? Or I didn't get the lid on it right?

I have white cabinets. Light beige walls with no backsplash.

Mama mia! Modern art! Or a mess, but either way it had to be cleaned up.

This escapade delayed supper, which delayed the departure of Heir and Fair, which delayed final kitchen cleanup, which delayed bedtime, which led to lolling in bed instead of going to the Labor Day parade.

Regular chain of events, so to speak.

I have a final pot of tomato gravy simmering on the stove. Farewell, summer! Back to work tomorrow, with lots of new books and plenty of paper.