The last pasta sauce

This time I knew it was the last time

The other night, I was lying awake feeding the baby and thinking about when my Mam passed away in 2019. She had a very aggressive form of cancer that meant she only survived mere weeks after diagnosis. Following her death, we sorted the house, and my Dad found a bunch of frozen meals she had made before she was ill, including a few portions of her famous pasta sauce.

Cooking is one of my favourite things to do, and I learned everything I know from my Mam. She didn’t follow recipes, rather she went with her gut. She taught me the basic foundations of certain cuisines: onion, garlic, basil, chilli for a good tomato sauce, cumin, ginger, garlic, turmeric and chilli for a basic curry… the possibilities are endless once you know which herbs and spices go together in these core dishes.

Everything she made was delicious, but her tomato pasta sauce (also used for pizzas) was really the best. She had nailed the combination of fresh herbs and tomatoes, blended together until smooth for my nephew, who refused all vegetables except pasta coated with this delicious creation.

One of my favourite TV shows of the year thus far, The Bear (now on Disney+), explored the way food can be the intangible link between the living and the passed. The show begins as Michelle-star chef Carmy inherits his brother’s greasy sandwich and steak shop in the Chicago heartland. Several references are made to the tomato pasta sauce often whipped up by Mike, his brother who committed suicide.

The recipe ends up being more than just a loving family memory for Carmy and his friend Richie, but I won’t spoil it. I highly recommend watching it.

Anyway, my Mam’s pasta sauce is long gone now, I ate the last portion just a few weeks after she died. There is something inexplicable about eating food made with love by someone who has passed away, especially when you know you can never quite replicate that recipe again. Even if I make the sauce exactly as she showed me, it’s never the same as hers.

Most of the time, you never really know something is the last until that person is gone. Whether that’s the last meal they ever make for you or the last time you speak on the phone… the last time you hold their hand or tell them you love them. There is always a last. But, in a gift from beyond the grave, I knew this was the last pasta sauce. The last time I would taste her cooking. Her way of showing love.

I can’t find a photo of any of the pasta she cooked, so here’s one of my inspired take as a basis of lentil bolognese.

I don’t know why the last pasta sauce popped into my head this week, but it did. For those of you who have lost someone, did you ever have a moment like this? Received a gift from your departed loved one, or found something belonging to them when you least expected it? Let me know over on Twitter @ContentByTheSea or reply to this email for a confidential chitchat.

📚 Currently reading… Babel by R F Kuang, Mean Baby by Selma Blair

📺Currently watching… Gangs of London (NowTV), The White Lotus S2 (NowTV), The Horne Section TV Show (All4)

🎥Recent films… Barbarian, Host.

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Enjoyed this? You might like these past issues:

26 October: I’m no mumpreneur

14 September: R-E-S-P-E-C-T: Finding out what it means to me

31st August: Giving up the balancing act

24th August: The longer I wait, the harder it gets

29th June: Coping with all of *this*

22nd June: Did you jump or were you pushed?

8th June: Why hitting pause is terrifying

1st June: I’m angry

25th May: To err is to human, but when to -er?

18th May: Can you ever be too prepared?