Add the salt and bay leaves.
Gently boil for 2 hours, strain, and use for Bolognese.
Pino Posteraro’s Fettuccine with Ragout alla Bolognese
— SERVES 4 —
1 tablespoon onions, chopped
1 tablespoon carrots, chopped
1 tablespoon celery, chopped
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 ounce mixed fresh herbs （such as rosemary, sage, and/or thyme）， chopped
2 bay leaves
2 ounces dried porcini mushrooms, reconstituted
? pound lean ground beef or veal
1 ounce tomato paste
3 ? tablespoons dry white wine
3 ? tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice
1 tablespoon salt
A pinch of black pepper
1 ? pints chicken stock （or Parmigiano stock, opposite）
1 pint beef jus （or Parmigiano stock）
10 ounces egg fettuccine
1 ounce butter
1 ounce 36% fat whipping cream （optional）
1 ? ounces Grana Padano, grated
In a large saucepan over medium heat, sweat the vegetables in the olive oil with the herbs and porcini. Add the meat and cook until brown, perhaps utilizing a lid to achieve a better and faster result. Add the tomato paste, wine, and orange juice and let the liquids evaporate. Add the salt, pepper, and stocks and let simmer for about 1 ? hours.
When the ragout is cooked, boil the fettuccine in salted water until al dente. Add the butter and the cream, if using, to the ragout alla Bolognese, toss the pasta with the sauce, and sprinkle with the grated Grana Padano.
14
The Martini
No one really knows the true origins of the drink that E. B. White called “the elixir of quietude.” Some say a bartender invented it at the end of the 1800s in the town of Martinez, California. Others say other things. Too many people say too many things and I wish they’d stop. In the end it doesn’t really matter. The only thing that matters is that the Martini exists. And to me it matters a great deal that it exists in its driest form. （The word “Martini” will always be capitalized within these pages.）
Originally Martinis were made with a one-to-two ratio of dry vermouth and gin. （If one were using sweet vermouth this would be known as a “Perfect Martini.”） But over the years Martinis became more and more dry, meaning they used less and less vermouth, to the point where many were made with none at all. No?l Coward suggested that the cocktail of cocktails be made by “filling a glass with gin and waving it in the general direction of Italy,” and I agree. （I have heard that in England during World War II, scotch was used a replacement for vermouth, which, for obvious reasons, was hard to come by. This story may well be apocryphal but I like the resourcefulness of the idea, and having often made a Martini this way, I must say it’s very tasty.） In my opinion, depending upon the quality and flavor profile of the gin or vodka, little or no vermouth should be used. I also believe that a Martini should be stirred and not shaken, no matter what 007 has told bartenders on screens for the last sixty years. Yet, at Dukes in London, where Mr. Fleming supposedly conjured up the ultimate gentleman spy, Martinis are neither shaken nor stirred, unless requested. Frigid potato vodka is poured directly into an ice-cold glass and garnished with one’s choice of olives or a lemon twist. Although I pride myself on being able to handle my liquor, due to the absence of ice cubes and their diluting effects on the alcohol, one of these can be enough for me to ask the waiter if he would discreetly remind me of my own name.
I only learned to make a Martini properly not when I was a bartender at Alfredo’s many years ago, but when I was a customer many years later. It was in a hotel on Majorca near a house I was staying in while filming a project that barely saw the light of day, thank God. I bellied up to the bar one evening after a rousing game of tennis and ordered a very dry Martini. As usual I watched the bartender like a hawk while he concocted my crepuscular tipple, making sure he had even a vague idea of how to work both shaker and strainer simultaneously. （I have actually been known to talk bartenders through the process very carefully if I see them struggling or ask politely if I can go behind the bar and just make my own.） Luckily, as it turns out, this bartender, who was Italian, more than knew his way around a bar. Here is what he did, and now, thanks to him, this is what I do.
The Martini
Ice
Dry vermouth
Gin or vodka
Olives or a lemon twist, to garnish
Take a glass beaker and fill it with ice.
Pour in a half shot of good dry vermouth.
Stir it well for about 15 seconds.
Let it sit for about 30 seconds.
Stir it again.
Strain out the vermouth.