Yer Basic Spaghetti with Meat Sauce Can't go wrong with the spaghet, right? Even a toddler will chow down on the noodlies, probably smearing sauce across her face and half the dining room rug, but if you didn't know having a rugrat has its ugly side when you got into it, well, I imagine you've figured it out by know.

Here's the thing though; if you use store-bought pasta sauce, Dad will reach through the computer screen and give you a damn good thrashing. Disgusting goo. And there's no damn justification for it, because it just ain't that hard to make your own. So get cracking.

• 1 lb spaghetti
  
• 1 lb hamburger (ground round or chuck--sirloin is too damn lean and tasteless)
  
• Coupla Tbsp olive oil
  
• 28-oz can of crushed tomatoes in tomato puree (or if they don't have that, tomato puree by itself is okay--not as nice texture, but it works)
  
• Coupla Tbsp chopped garlic
  
• Large onion, diced
  
• big ol Tbsp of oregano
  
• likewise of dried basil
  
• Dad likes to throw in a Tsp of some other herb, varying it from time to time, for a slightly different flavor; try tarragon, thyme, or savory
  
• S&P to taste
  
• Coupla shakes of hot red pepper
  

1. Fill yer biggest pot with water, stick it on the stove over high heat, pour more salt than you might suspect into the water, slap the lid on, and get it boiling.
   
2. While it's heating up, put a skillet, preferably cast-iron, over medium-high heat. Pour in a Tbsp of oil, swirl it around, then crumble the hamburger into it. Cook the hamburger, chopping it with the edge of a spatula or a big spoon, and stirring it frequently, until the pinkness disappears and the hamburger is in lotsa small bits.
   
3. Dump the hamburger into a strainer, and press it to get out as much of the fat as feasible, then wipe out the pain.
   
4. Return the pan to the stove, heat up the other Tbsp of oil over medium heat. Throw in the garlic and onions, and cook'em until soft, stirring occasionally.
   
5. Open the can of tomatoes, pour it into the pan. Add the spices and the cooked hamburger, s&P to taste, and mix it. Get it bubbling, then turn the heat to low and let it cook away, stirring once in a while.
   
6. Any time from about point 3 on that the big pot is boiling, dump the spaghetti into it. If the kinder are small, you may want to break the spaghetti in half first, making it tad easier to handle on the plate, but it's up to you. And stir the fucker, y'hear me? Frequently. I use a big salad fork, makes it easier to break up any strands that are sticking together. Stir it every couple of minutes, and if you've got any big clumps when you're done, then what can I say, you're an idiot. And forget about that 'pour some oil into the pot' nonesense--sheerest superstition, does not a damn thing to help.
   
7. Anyway, when the spaghetti is al dente, probably about 10 minutes but look at the package, drain it and toss with the sauce.
   

Not hard, right? A coupla points, though.

Chopping Garlic

I'm only going to go through this once, so listen up. You can spend have your damn life peeling garlic and slicing it up, or you can do it the easy way. Okay? Separate a clove from the bunch. Put it on the cutting board. Take a big ol' knife, place the flat of the knife atop the clove, and press down with your other hand, smashing the clove. Remove the knife; you'll find that the skin comes off easily, and the clove is already broken up, so that when you chop it, it's easy.

But Can't I use Fresh Tomatoes?

What are you, some kind of Whole Foods Nazi? No you cannot use fresh tomatoes, you dweeb. If you were Italian, you'd know this, if only because your grandmother would have gone on and on until you wanted to throttle her about how she took five days to get from fresh tomato to her own special beloved pasta sauce. And yes, it was probably better than this is, but we don't have five fucking days to spend on this project. Mind you, a fresh tomato sauce is a lovely thing in it's own right, but that's a recipe for another day.  ¶ 1:03 PM