My mom has made a “spaghetti sauce” (or “red sauce,” as my husband calls it) for as long as I can remember. The smell of it as it cooks, collecting in stairwells and pockets around the house, immediately makes any place smell like home to me. So when she flew out to visit a few weeks after the arrival of our first child, and asked what she should make for dinner, it was the obvious choice.
(Okay, it was a bit more complicated than that: She offered to make dinner (yes! thank you! I’m so tired I can barely mash buttons on my phone to get take-out), and then asked what we’d like (I have no idea! I’m so tired I can barely mash buttons on my phone to get take-out). Once she thought of it, though, this was clearly perfect: delicious, easy, and freezes well so we can keep eating it after she left.)
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