The Tuscan Derivative

In which we continue our exploration of Argentine tomato sauces.

Although salsa pomarola has a huge place within the Argentine canon of recipes, it’s less often the choice for a plate of pasta. It’s likely the most common choice for meat dishes calling out for tomato sauce - primarily meatballs or chorizos. One of my favorite casual dishes here, and apparently a guilty pleasure for many Argentines (I do not know why they like to pretend they don’t eat it, they do), is the chori a la pomarola. I’ve spent a bit of time exploring that dish. The sauce is also quite commonly used for pizzas and for the popular milanesa napolitana.

The inspiration, perhaps, for this sauce is an Italian sauce of the same name, the Pomarola Toscana, a Tuscan tomato sauce made from tomatoes, carrots, onions, parsley, salt, pepper, and olive oil. That sauce has a couple of particular characteristics - first it is traditionally made from a mix of different tomatoes, both plum and ridged, second, the vegetables are not sautéed, but mixed into the crushed tomatoes and cooked down with them, and third, the sauce is then passed through a food mill to create a thick puree, and the olive oil is blended in after that, as a seasoning element rather than a sautéing one.

Now, the Argentine version isn’t hugely different, though in its most traditional form varies slightly from the Tuscan. It usually uses just one type of tomato, the plum sort, garlic, celery and red bell pepper make appearances in small quantities, the aromatic vegetables are sautéed, a sort of sofrito, before the tomatoes are added, and the tomatoes are already peeled and seeded before cooking - probably most often, they’re canned. Passing through a food mill and/or adding tomato puree, seem optional. In this presentation, I did neither, keeping it at its most simple preparation, though in retrospect, I think I’d add a splash of puree, or even just tomato paste, to boost the intensity, and maybe run it through the food processor or use a stick blender to coarsely puree it. One thing that virtually everyone who compared them made a point of is that the two key differences between pomarola and filetto, the sauce I started this series with are onions and pepper, neither of which, according to the self-proclaimed keepers of the flame, have any place in filetto.

I’m also going to combine pasta with the chori a la pomarola idea. Not a heretical move, I’ve had more than one pasta that combined them. Just makes this more interesting. And flavorful!

We have the chorizos, basil, celery, red bell pepper, carrot, garlic, onion, tomato, salt and pepper, olive oil, and parmigiano. The general formula for the vegetables seems to be to use roughly half the amount of onion as tomato, and half again of each of the other three - bell pepper, carrot, celery - by volume. It’s a rough measure, no need to be exact. This is enough for two portions.

Prick the chorizos with a fork and sauté them in a pan. I usually put a little oil in the pan just to help prevent them from sticking. It’s probably not necessary, but it doesn’t hurt anything and makes me feel better about it. I find it very annoying when I go to turn them and the skin is stuck to the pan and tears when I move them.

When they’re browned and cooked through, set them aside - keep them hot.

While the chorizos are cooking, start the sofrito. Here we have the chopped onion, bell pepper, carrot, celery, and minced garlic, along with the olive oil, salt, and pepper. Over low to medium heat.

Cook them until the vegetables are soft and starting to color, about 5-6 minutes.

Add the tomatoes - peeled and seeded (unless you’re going the food mill route, in which case that’s not necessary, as the mill will remove them. Or, a can of whole or crushed tomatoes. Cook for about 10-15 minutes. About ten minutes in drop your spaghetti into boiling salted water.

It should cook down to a thick paste. This is where I’m thinking I should have had more tomato in the form of puree or extract. It feels more vegetable-y than it should. It’s still delicious, and tastes primarily of tomato, but aesthetically ought to be… redder. This is the point where those who puree it would do so.

Emulsify with some of the pasta cooking water.

Add the spaghetti and the torn basil. You can see here why I’d want it more tomato-y, and probably why people often puree it. All the vegetables, including the tomato, sort of separate when it’s tossed with the pasta.

Still, once served, it actually has more tomato visible. I’ve sliced the chorizos and placed them around the mound of pasta, just because. Could just as easily tossed them in the sauce. Could also have left them whole. It’s all personal. Grate the parmigiano over the top and garnish with a reserved basil sprig.

And… eat.