If the cookbook above looks good to you, click on the link for a place to purchase it. Since I haven't seen more than the cover, I can't recommend or warn.
When I was young and my family dinner had more than one layer, the pre-plating question was always, "On top of or next to?" Weirdo that I was, I always wanted my foods side-by-side so that (1) the bottom food wouldn't get soggy and (2) I could dip each forkful of drier into wetter to make the right ratio. To be clear, I wasn't so picky as to avoid the liquid part altogether because even then, I knew that sauce makes things better. Our dining service has a whole separate fridge for sauces, hot and otherwise, from around the world, because they acknowledge the ameliorating properties of sauces.
Which brings me to thinking about one of my favorite adjectives, "awesomesauce," which is apparently enough of a word to earn a definition on dictionary.com. The word "awesome" already shows that something's pretty great, so once again, it's the "sauce" that brings the praise to its next level.
Where else can we add "sauce" to our lives?
- When a baseball pitcher throws something fast, isn't it described as "having sauce on it"?
- Does McDonald's still advertise its "special sauce" on a Big Mac?
- If a person acts extra, might you describe them as "saucy"?
- If you don't know why someone's as wonderful as possible, would you say "I'm not sure what's their secret sauce"?
There might be more places to add sauce, to food and to our additudes, but I think the one thing that's abundantly clear is that life's better with sauce. Please share your responses--saucy or otherwise--in the comments.
As a kid, I knew that most solid foods were just vehicles for my favorite food: ketchup.
I lived with someone (cough cough younger daughter) whose two favorite food groups were cheese and ketchup!
You’re right—sauce is the multiplier. It’s what takes something solid and makes it memorable.
Which is why I immediately thought of Karen’s baked mostaccioli.
The noodles and cheese are dependable. But the sauce? That’s where she plays. Some nights it’s heavy on garlic. Some nights it’s spicy. Sometimes it’s just whatever’s in the fridge. She likes it because she can change it up based on what she has and what she feels.
That’s the point.
The structure stays steady. The sauce adapts. It absorbs the mood of the week and somehow makes the same dish feel different every time.
We all have our “mostaccioli” parts—the routines, the obligations, the bones of our days. But the sauce is where personality shows up. It’s the tweak, the instinct, the extra something that makes life taste like yours.
You can’t always control the noodles.
You can always adjust the sauce.
I love this (and most food analogies)! I agree that the noodles are the same every time and not very exciting, but how we dress them up makes all the difference. So many situations in life demand that we sauce things up in ways that bring us joy.