Pasta Sauce Recipe - Vincent "Vinnie the Butcher" Gabilone (my altar-ego-pseudo-chef)

I’m so happy my son cooks. I’m especially happy he makes family recipes that have been handed down through the years—not in writing, but through memory. However, when he lost, or dis-remembered, my sauce recipe for the umpteenth time, and asked me to, once again, send it to him, he awakened my inner mobster, Vincent “Vinnie the Butcher” Gabilone. Here’s what Vinnie had to say:

PASTA SAUCE

"Yo, kid...are ya listenin' ta’ me? Good. Now, for tha’ love of Christ, pay attention.

Put tha’ friggin' sausage links in tha' oven on 350* ya hear? In the means-time put a big friggin’ pot on tha’ stovetop.

Tro’ some Olive Oil in tha’ friggin' pan...make sure tha’ burner is on, ya filthy animal...and make sure it's not too hot...ya good for nothin' recipe-loser!

Slice up some onions and garlic real nice, now, and tro’ ‘em in tha’ friggin' oil...DON'T BURN THE GARLIC...ya hear me? On a counta' you's are gonna have ta start all over!

Now, when tha’ onions and garlic are nice and translucent, tro’ in some crushed tomāta’s, pureed tomāta's, and tomāta paste...now take that friggin-good-for-nothing can the crushed tomātas were in and fill it wit water. Now ya made it good for somethin'. Ya see? You's are useful!

Now tro’ that water in tha pan and stir it real nice-like. Don't get too handsy or you's are gonna splash that shit all over tha’ place and I know you's don't clean. You can turn up tha’ heat now...but settle down...ya hear me?

Now gather up a heapin’ palm full of dried parsley, grind it up between your palms like you're grinding up Johnny Knuckles’ knee caps, and tro’ it in tha’ sauce. Do the same wit a flat palm of dried basil...but now pretend it's that yellow rat, Silvio! Feel better? Good! Then, ever so gently, place one large bay leaf in that mother, pinkies up, like an arteest. Mwah!

Now tro’ in some salt, garlic powder, pepper, an’ crushed red pepper. What? I don’t know how much. Taste it! You’s gotta figure out some things on your own. Lastly, add the secret ingredient I'll send by carrier pigeon later. But JUST A PINCH...and don't tell no-one about it...gabeesh?

Stir the sauce real nice-like. Pretend you're fancy, like Guy Fieri—and tell that son of a bitch to color his hair while you's are at it! He looks like my damn aunt Edna. You know...tha’ one wit the mustache, that married Tommy "Legs" Boitano?

Anyways...don't get me started...or I'll have ta' go break somebody's skull...

Yo...where was I? Oh yeah, stir tha’ sauce...and taste it again, ya goobinad...ta’ make sure it's worthy. And tro’ in a cuppa parmagiana and those damn sausages that have been bakin' in the oven on a counta' the sauce ain't gonna taste good, until those baked links are swimmin' in tha tomāta’s for a while—like Iggy Volitani is swimmin’ with tha fishes, ya hear me? Ya long-haired-recipe-loser!

That’s it. You got it? You good now? Now go make some homemade noodles and pop in a nice crusty loaf, and don't lose this recipe again or you's are gonna' be dis-invited to the family...gabeesh?"