Name: Italian Sunday Red Gravy Recipe
Prep time: 25 min
Cook time: 3 h
Total time: 3 h 25 min
Yield: 8 servings
Cuisine: Italian
Ingredients: 2 tbsp olive oil; 1 lb Italian sausage; 1 lb beef meatballs; 1 medium onion, finely chopped; 4 garlic cloves, minced; 2 cans (28 oz each) crushed tomatoes; 2 tbsp tomato paste; 1 tsp dried oregano; 1 tsp dried basil; 1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes; 2 tsp sugar; Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste; 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

Let Me Tell You About My Sunday Red Gravy (Aka Sauce)

So, every family has their quirks, right? In my loud, opinionated Italian-American crew, the one thing we all agreed on was: Sunday means red gravy simmering on the stove (except that one year when my cousin tried making lasagna in the slow cooker—don’t ask). I remember being eight, standing on a chair to reach the stove, swirling that homemade sauce with a wooden spoon that—I kid you not—had survived longer than our family car. There’s something about the smell of garlic and tomatoes bubbling away that turns even the chilliest kitchen into the heart of the home.

Why You’ll Love This Red Gravy (Even If The Stove Is Messy)

I make this when I want the house to feel like an Italian restaurant, honestly. My family goes a bit bonkers for this recipe, especially when there’s crusty bread to mop everything up (though my dad once tried to sneak Wonder Bread to the table—total heresy). It’s not fussy, it’s rarely perfect, and there’s always a little tomato splatter on my shirt. But there’s magic in that rolling simmer, and—confession time—I have, more than once, skipped the pasta altogether and just eaten it with a spoon, right from the pot (don’t tell Nonna, she’d shake her head at me).

Everything You Need (And Some Things You Just Want To Add)

2 large cans San Marzano tomatoes – I swear by Cento, but if you’re in a rush, any good crushed tomatoes will do. My neighbor uses store-brand, and honestly? It’s still pretty tasty.
1/4 cup olive oil – the real deal if possible, though sometimes when I’m lazy I use half olive and half canola. Heresy, again.
1 medium yellow onion, diced fine
5 cloves garlic, smashed and chopped—add more if you want to scare off vampires or just love garlic
2 tablespoon tomato paste – or honestly a big squirt if you buy the tube (super handy!)
A handful of fresh basil leaves (or a teaspoon dried if that’s what you’ve got lurking in the cabinet)
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional, but gives it a kick—my kids complain but I sneak it in anyway)
1 teaspoon dried oregano
Salt and freshly ground black pepper – to taste. I tend to go heavy on the pepper.
1/2 cup red wine (completely optional, but fabulous; sometimes I use a splash of water when I’m out)
1-2 bones (pork neck, beef short rib, or whatever’s around)—skip if you’re going vegetarian, but man, it adds depth
Meaty extras (optional): A few Italian sausages or meatballs tossed in raw—my grandma did this, and it made everything taste richer.

Here’s How I Actually Put This Together

Get a big heavy pot (I use my old Dutch oven, which looks ready for retirement) and heat up your olive oil over medium.
Add the onions. Sweat them out until they’re soft and kinda golden, not browned (I once forgot them and, well, they went almost black. Still ate them.) Now toss in garlic. Quick stir. If it gets too brown, pull the pot off the heat for a sec—don’t worry. Happens to the best of us.
Tomato paste time! Sauté it with the onion and garlic, and let it get dark and sort of brick-ish in color. This is where I usually stop to sniff the aroma (yes, I’m that person).
Pour in the tomatoes. I like to squish them with my hands (messy, but fun). If you use whole, crush as you add. If you use crushed, just dump ‘em in. Add red wine right now if using.
Toss in your herbs, pepper flakes, salt & pepper, and the bones or meats if you’re feeling it. Bring it all to a low, lazing simmer. Slower is better here. Stir every now and then, scraping the bottom (and yes, sometimes the bottom sticks—a wooden spoon works miracles).
Let it do its thing for 2-4 hours. It’ll thicken up. Add a splash of water if it gets too thick—or honestly just more wine if you’re feeling feisty.
This is where I usually sneak a taste—carefully, it’s molten lava. Adjust salt/pepper as needed.
If you used meats, fish them out and serve separately or shred back into the sauce.
Stir in fresh basil right at the end; save a little for garnish if you’re being fancy (I rarely am, but hey… it looks nice).

Things I Figured Out (Notes)

Actually, I find it works better if I don’t stir too much during the first hour—let the flavors mingle a bit.
Save the tomato can—swirl a bit of water in it and add to the pot. Waste not, want not.
Sometimes I forget the oregano. Doesn’t ruin the whole thing, don’t panic.

Stuff I’ve Tried (Variations)

Mushrooms: Good for vegetarians, but they can get a tad rubbery if you overcook, so maybe just add in the last half hour.
Bay leaf: Occasionally toss one in, can’t decide if it’s crucial but doesn’t hurt.
I tried making it once in a slow cooker for 8 hours; came out fine, but the edges got weird, a bit metallic-tasting—so I stick to stove-top now.
A friend of mine shared this Sunday gravy variation at Serious Eats—it gets wild with braciole and other meats, but honestly, the basics here still win my heart.

What If I Don’t Have a Dutch Oven? (Equipment Talk)

I mean, a big, heavy-bottomed pot is ideal, but use what you’ve got. I went years making gravy in a cheap soup pot (just stir more often—and watch out for burned bits). Kitchn has a good guide to Dutch ovens, but don’t stress if yours is mismatched or scratched up. Works fine.

Storage, Or: How Long Does It Last?

So, technically it’ll last in the fridge for up to a week, and you can freeze it for a couple months. But, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day or two (I sometimes catch folks eating it cold from the container). I think it tastes better the next day, though. Tomayto, tomahto.

How I Serve Red Gravy (And You Should Try This)

Pile it up on spaghetti, shells, rigatoni—whatever’s handy. My family always has a loaf of crusty Italian bread at hand, plus maybe a little salad to pretend we’re being healthy. Oh, and if someone leaves the sauce on low for a while after dinner? The midnight snackers will come calling, guaranteed.

If I Could Go Back… (Pro Tips from Real Mistakes)

I once tried rushing the simmer step—ends up just tasting kind of ‘meh’. If you can, give it at least two hours for all the flavors to hang out together.
Don’t overload with herbs at the start. Actually, better to add fresh right near the end so the flavor pops.
I have burned the bottom (more than once)—low and slow really is the way.

Random FAQs I Actually Get Asked

Can I skip the bones/meat?: Yep! It’ll just be lighter, more like a classic marinara. Maybe toss in extra garlic if you want a little oomph.
Is there a non-alcoholic sub for the red wine?: Totally; just use a splash of water or a little beef broth. On second thought, even a hint of balsamic vinegar works for a deeper flavor!
Why is it called ‘gravy’?: Oh boy, you’re brave for asking—some folks swear ‘sauce’ is the only correct term, but growing up, it was always ‘gravy’ in our house. Just don’t start this debate at a family dinner.
How do I avoid the sauce being too acidic?: Sometimes I add a pinch of sugar at the end if it tastes sharp—though, honestly, I probably overthink this. A butter pat works well too.
Do I need to peel tomatoes?: Nah, not if you use canned! If you’re going fresh in, say, August—eh, maybe. But otherwise, no worries.

Got your own spin on Sunday gravy? Ping me or—just do what makes you happy at dinner, that’s my rule.

Italian Sunday Red Gravy Recipe