This Isn't Nanna's Bolognese

This wasn’t supposed to be a story. It was supposed to be dinner. But like most of my meals, this one came together somewhat haphazardly between photo editing, metal design, a dog walk and the “Oh crap, it’s already 12 pm.” I didn’t set out to reinvent Bolognese, I was just trying to avoid making cheesy noodles again while dealing with a frozen Costco pork loin the size of a baseball bat.

This is what I call a hybrid recipe — not because it’s trendy, but because I used both pressure cook and slow cook modes in my insta-pot like the multitasking master I am. I pressure cooked the pork after semi-thawing it in cold water, walked my pup during this process, shredded, then threw everything in and let it slow cook while I did all the things. It’s one of those meals that feels like it should have taken all day — but really, it just used all day.

What came out of that debacle is the kind of recipe that’s comforting, unfussy and pretty forgiving. And most importantly, it cooks itself — more or less — while I do all the things. A great throw-it-in-and-go-live-your-life option for days when you want to head out on an adventure in our beautiful high desert home.

I didn’t have time to shop so I was unable to follow a traditional Bolognese method that involved milk, pancetta and patience. I had a pork loin straight from the freezer, some ground chuck and almost everything else I needed. So I pressure cooked the pork with some apple juice, bay leaf and salt until it was fork-tender, browned the ground beef with onion, carrot and celery, and added crushed tomatoes, tomato paste, beef broth and the remaining apple juice liquid from pressure cooking the loin. Nothing fancy, just what I had on hand, per usual.

After that? I switched to slow cook, walked away and hoped for the best. Six hours later, the house smelled like I knew what I was doing. I added a splash of cream, a pinch of nutmeg… and that was it. About seven hours in total.

Here is where I went completely rogue: I ditched pasta for Israeli “pearl” couscous. Not because I’m anti-noodle, but because that’s what I had — it worked. You could most certainly serve this with tagliatelle or pappardelle if you want to keep things classic, but I say go with what you’ve got — that’s kind of my usual. And while I happened to start with frozen meat (because I don’t always plan ahead), this’ll cook even faster if you’re starting with fresh or thawed. Either way, it’s nice to have a fallback for those “what am I even making” days.

Hybrid Pork & Beef Bolognese with Pearl Couscous

*this feeds our family of four with leftovers remaining

Sauce:

3 lb frozen pork loin
1.5 lb ground chuck
1.5 cups onion, diced
1.5 cups carrot, diced
1 cup celery, diced
3 tbsp tomato paste
1 cup beef broth
1 28-oz can crushed San Marzano tomatoes
1 20-oz can crushed tomatoes (any kind) in sauce
1 cup apple juice (for pressure cooking)
1 head garlic, peeled/smashed
1 bay leaf
1 cup chopped Italian parsley
1/3 cup cream (optional)
Pinch of nutmeg (optional)
Salt + pepper to taste

Couscous:

Olive oil for sautéing
2 cups Israeli (pearl) couscous
1 tbsp olive oil or butter
3 cups water or broth
Salt to taste

Directions:

Pressure cook the frozen pork loin with apple juice, salt and a bay leaf on high for 50 minutes. Natural release for 10, then shred. Keep the cooking liquid and add it back in with the pork later.

Sauté onion, carrot and celery in olive oil until softened. Add ground chuck and brown well. Stir in tomato paste, then deglaze the pan with broth.

Add the shredded pork, crushed tomatoes, parsley, garlic and the saved apple juice liquid. Switch the Instant Pot to slow cook mode and let it go for 5 to 6 hours on low or 3 to 4 on high.

Add a splash of cream and a pinch of nutmeg at the end if you’re feeling fancy.

To cook the pearl couscous, toast it in olive oil or butter over medium-high heat until golden. Add water or broth and salt, bring to a boil, cover and simmer on low until tender — about 8 to 15 minutes depending on the brand. Let stand for 5 minutes, then fluff with a fork.

Top with parsley, parmesan or — if you’re me — sliced avocado, because I put that on everything whether it belongs there or not.

Whether you’re chasing peaks or chasing peace, out there it’s dirt trails and sky — in here, it’s comfort in a pot. Toss it in, chase the sunset, find a trail, and come back to a dinner that smells like you tried way harder than you did. Adventure hard. Dinner’s handled.

This article appears in Source Weekly June 12, 2025.