Over the last ten years I’ve spent thousands developing my bolognese. Like MS, you wouldn’t necessarily look at me and guess the engineering going on under the hood… but my spag bol is the stuff of legends. This isn’t a recipe, it’s a living organism. Very hands-on. Very organic. You don’t cook it, you negotiate with it. The timing, the milk, the acidity, the thickness… all have to be configured like you’re landing a spaceship on the moon. My kids leave half of McDonald’s, melt ice cream into the sofa, take two bites of sweets and suddenly become full… but when my bolognese goes in the slow cooker? Silence. Respect. Empty bowls. No pressure. No negotiations. No “I don’t like onions” political debates. They just eat it. Friends and family somehow magically appear too. People who haven’t text in six months suddenly materialise at the door like they picked up a signal from space. That slow cooker isn’t a kitchen appliance anymore, it’s a homing beacon. People think bolognese is just mince and sauce. Amateur hour. Mine has phases. Evolution. Character arcs. By hour four it’s basically achieved sentience. Italian mammies may not approve of what I do to a slow cooker… but deep down they’d respect the craft 🇮🇹🚀🍝