Buzz
I once came across a claim that Italians never use both onions and garlic in marinara; they always choose one. Although it seemed like one of those rigid cooking “rules” found online, it didn’t hold up under a simple search—it might apply in certain Italian regions, but it's more of a traditional belief than a steadfast rule in Italian cuisine. Still, there’s something to be said for old-school ideas: Once I began using only garlic in my marinara, I felt like I’d uncovered a key secret of the universe.
Whether based in superstition or not, the decision to pick one allium makes perfect sense. Onions and garlic work well together, but when combined, they tend to dull each other's flavors. Instead of distinct tastes from both, you often get something vaguely pleasant. By using just one, its flavor shines through, adding a noticeable character to the dish. In a simple sauce like marinara, this choice profoundly affects the final flavor—each ingredient, especially the allium you choose, becomes more distinct.
For me, garlic is always the allium of choice. With the exception of Marcella Hazan’s tomato-butter sauce, I’ve never been fond of onions in my red sauce. It’s mostly about texture: While minced onions can dissolve nicely in olive oil or butter, larger pieces in a smooth sauce disrupt its consistency. On the other hand, garlic, even when roughly chopped, softens beautifully when simmered for a while. I also favor the bold taste garlic brings, particularly when paired with tomatoes and olive oil.
My red sauce has become so simple, it’s barely even a recipe. But to give you an idea, here’s how I make it: I cook 10-12 chopped garlic cloves, a teaspoon of crushed red pepper, and half a cup of olive oil in a large pot over medium-low heat for about 5 minutes. While that’s cooking, I use my stick blender to purée a #10 can of whole tomatoes (roughly four 28-ounce cans) and add it to the pot. I bring it to a strong boil and let it go for about 5 minutes, then reduce the heat and simmer until it’s reduced by almost half and the oil starts to separate. This process takes about 4 hours. I finish it off with salt, sugar—I buy inexpensive, acidic restaurant-style canned tomatoes, so sugar is a must—and extra red pepper to taste.
For me, my red sauce is perfection: Super-garlicky, slightly spicy, and packed with deep, balanced tomato flavor. (That olive oil almost turns the tomatoes into a confit as they simmer down—bellissimo, as they say.) But I believe it would be just as tasty with onions instead of garlic, especially if you like a gentler, sweeter sauce. You could even swap the olive oil for butter, and perhaps brown it first—I’m sure Marcella would approve.
