The Great Tomato : Sauces From the Scarlet Tomatoes of August : Cooking: Globe and plum varieties lend unsurpassed flavor to sauces, thick and thin, hearty and delicate.

So-called “Italian” tomato sauce is as American as John Philip Sousa. He once composed a spaghetti recipe involving a sauce seasoned within an inch of its life and simmered for 5 1/2 hours. You can find that recipe in “The Stag Cook Book,” a 1922 compilation “written for men by men,” with contributions by such worthies as Rube Goldberg, Warren G. Harding and Booth Tarkington.

We’ve been eating thick, pungent sauces like Sousa’s ever since the Depression, when spaghetti joints became fixtures in every sizable town. Visiting Italians are often known to wonder whether we’re crazy. It’s not that they don’t make tomato sauce in Italy. It’s just that they have other ideas about how to handle tomatoes.

Nothing can stop me from occasionally tackling a plate of spaghetti and meatballs drowned in one of those heavy, cooked-to-a-fare-thee-well sauces. But I would never make any such sauce out of scarlet garden tomatoes in August and September. Long cooking destroys their lovely late-summer immediacy. Sauces from fresh seasonal tomatoes should taste like fresh seasonal tomatoes.

There are literally dozens of ways to turn any harvest of tomatoes into good sauce: thick or thin, chunky or smooth, lightly or heavily seasoned, uncooked or cooked. Most parts of Italy have versions that are simmered for just a short time--15 to 20 minutes at most.

The easiest and most summer-tasting sauce of all doesn’t even need cooking. For this sauce, the tomatoes are invariably peeled and seeded. It doesn’t matter if the sauce is soupy as long as the tomatoes are the real McCoy. The tomatoes must have absolutely full, vivid, first-class flavor, for there’s nothing in the simple seasonings or the cooking to mask insipidity. Incidentally, if you can possibly avoid it, never refrigerate tomatoes; it dulls their flavor.

Don’t believe recipes that say canned tomatoes will do for these delicate sauces. They are best served with small, thin pasta shapes such as angel hair, vermicelli or thin-cut egg pasta, and they should be made in small batches and used quickly. Like all tomato sauces, they should be cooked in non-aluminum saucepans because the acid in the fruit reacts with aluminum to produce discoloration and a metallic off-flavor.

The larger family of sauces that simmer somewhat longer--anywhere from 40 minutes to an hour--have a little more body and a richer amalgamation of flavors. The first step in many of these tomato sauces is preparing a kind of flavor underpinning in the form of finely chopped aromatic vegetables such as onions, carrots and celery sauteed in olive oil, butter or a small amount of fat like that rendered from prosciutto.

Cut-up tomatoes are then added--skins, seeds and all, if the sauce is to be pureed after cooking; peeled and seeded if it is to be served as is. Canned tomatoes are never as vivid in flavor as peak-season fresh ones, but for longer-simmered sauces they will do better than the expensive excuses for fresh tomatoes found in most stores after the season has ended.

A longer-cooked sauce suits the thick, stubby varieties of pasta or hollow shapes such as rigatoni better than the uncooked or lightly cooked sauces. It should not be reduced to as thick a consistency as many Americans expect. On the other hand, it is meant to be ristretta (concentrated) and bene addensata (well-thickened)--enough to coat pasta more luxuriously than the fresh sauces.

Because of the amazing variations in flavor and, especially, juiciness that fresh seasonal tomatoes exhibit from region to region, season to season, and variety to variety, there can be no exact rule on how long to cook them. There is also no hard and fast rule saying Italian plum tomatoes are better than American globe tomatoes; both have their advantages and disadvantages.

In general, juicy tomatoes have more flavor than meaty ones; they do, however, take more cooking to achieve the body many people want in a sauce. More cooking means a more cooked flavor--good for some sauces, all wrong for others.

Making tomato sauce always means playing off the claims of flavor--which comes more from the juice than the pulp--against the claims of that bene addensata consistency. I have a strong prejudice on this subject: Gloriously slurpy tomatoes give unsurpassed flavor to all sauces, over-liquid or not. On the other hand, I find the so-called “meaty” tomatoes uninteresting in taste.

The moral: evaluate every batch of tomatoes before you start cooking. To do this, peel and seed a few tomatoes and either measure or roughly estimate how much juice you are getting. Two parts of pulp to one or more of liquid is extremely juicy. Six parts pulp to one part liquid is very dry.

If the tomatoes are soupy, you had better reserve some of the liquid and add it to the sauce as you see fit during cooking. (Any that isn’t used makes a fine addition to other sauces and soups.) All sauces will thicken faster when cooked in wide, shallow pans to promote evaporation.

When tomatoes don’t have much juice, the problem is not an over-thin sauce but often one that tastes uninspiring. Fiddle as necessary with the seasonings, but unless the tomatoes are absolutely hopeless, your aim should be to boost their flavor rather than administer artificial resuscitation.

Between one teaspoon and two tablespoons of canned tomato paste enlivens dull tomatoes, but don’t use it routinely on good ones; it overpowers them. A little salt also helps bring out tomato flavor. A mild, flavorful vinegar can jazz things up a bit; so can using shallots instead of onions.

Acidity--something many people complain about with both globe and plum tomatoes--can be offset in all sauces if you add a tiny dash of sugar or increase the amount of carrot and onion in recipes calling for them. A tablespoon or two of olive oil stirred in at the end helps smooth out a slightly harsh taste.

The recipes that follow, arranged from least to longest cooked, don’t come close to exhausting the repertoire of tomato sauce possibilities in Italy, to say nothing of the rest of the world.

A complete head count would have to include things such as the peppery hazelnut-tomato romesco of Spain, a mishmash of Southeast Asian dipping sauces, some Mexican salsas, the wonderful cold (but fiery hot) tomato sauce described in George Lang’s “The Cuisine of Hungary,” the rich tomato jams in some North African meat dishes and some new inventions using sun-dried tomatoes.

I think, though, that the continent hopping that took tomatoes from Central America to Italy and eventually returned the results to America have produced about as much happiness as any lucky accident in history. Given a bushel of these tomatoes at their dead-ripe, fire-engine-red summer best, the following recipes are what I’d first think of doing with them after I’d eaten half a dozen out of hand.

To Peel and Seed Tomatoes: Immerse tomatoes in boiling water for 15 to 20 seconds to loosen the skins, then peel. Cut the peeled tomatoes in half crosswise, squeeze out the contents of the seed chambers over a bowl and roughly chop the pulp. (This boiling-water method tends to remove the extra-tasty layer of pulp just under the skin, but you can salvage some of the flavor by wringing out the peels a fistful at a time.)

A Note on Amounts: Usually 2 cups of sauce will do for 1 pound of pasta, but not always. For uncooked sauce, which is more delicate than cooked, count on at least 3 cups per pound of pasta. Rich, long-simmered sauces can be served in ratios of 1 1/2 cups per pound of pasta. Most of the following recipes are for larger amounts, yielding leftovers for future use. All freeze well except the uncooked sauce; to keep that one--at some sacrifice of flavor-- freeze the fresh pulp by itself and add the garlic and onion after thawing.

Fresh, simple sauces go with thin pasta shapes. Don’t try to make them with anything less than ripe tomatoes. If the tomatoes are very juicy, add a few more than are called for and drain off some of the liquid.

UNCOOKED TOMATO SAUCE

1 small onion

1 medium clove garlic

1 1/2 to 2 pounds ripe tomatoes

2 to 4 tablespoons olive oil, or to taste

1 to 3 teaspoons balsamic vinegar or lemon juice, optional

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

Cooked angel hair pasta

Chopped fresh basil leaves

Mince together onion and garlic. Peel, seed and coarsely chop tomatoes. Place onion, garlic and tomatoes in bowl along with 2 to 3 tablespoons olive oil. Add more olive oil and balsamic vinegar, if desired. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Let stand unrefrigerated 1 to 4 hours. Serve with cooked angel hair pasta, sprinkling few chopped basil leaves over each portion. Makes about 3 cups thin sauce.

This sauce is best used at once, but it can be made up to two days ahead, refrigerated and reheated a few minutes before serving. In that case, or if the sauce is to be frozen, do not add basil until the sauce is reheated.

QUICK-COOKING TOMATO SAUCE

2 pounds ripe tomatoes

1 large clove garlic, minced

2 to 3 tablespoons olive oil

12 leaves fresh basil, finely chopped

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

Cooked vermicelli, spaghettini or other thin pasta

Peel, seed and chop tomatoes. Lightly drain if tomatoes seem watery.

Heat olive oil in wide, shallow non-aluminum pan over medium heat. Saute garlic until tender. Add tomatoes and basil. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Bring to boil and cook briskly, uncovered, 10 to 15 minutes, occasionally stirring and crushing tomatoes with wooden spoon. Sauce should be just slightly thickened. Serve with vermicelli. Makes about 2 cups.

The nomenclature of Italian sauces often puzzles Americans. It is usual to mention the name of the pasta and add “with,” or “in the style of,” some identifying element in the sauce or its place of origin. A well-known Roman dish is penne (quill-shaped pasta) all’arrabbiata (“fighting-mad style”), made with a quick-cooking tomato sauce laced with hot peppers. The degree of heat can be varied to taste, but this sauce is not supposed to be thermonuclear.

“FIGHTING MAD” SAUCE FOR PENNE

3 tablespoons olive oil or mixture of olive oil and butter

3 large cloves garlic, quartered or lightly crushed

2 pounds ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped, or 1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes, undrained

2 to 3 small, dried hot red chiles, crushed and seeded or 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

Fresh basil leaves

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

Cooked pasta

Freshly grated Romano cheese, preferably imported Italian pecorino Romano or imported Parmesan

Heat olive oil in large, wide, non-aluminum skillet over medium heat until not quite smoking. Quickly brown garlic, then remove cloves with slotted spoon. Add tomatoes, chiles and few torn basil leaves. Season lightly with salt and pepper.

Bring to boil and simmer, uncovered, 15 to 20 minutes, stirring frequently and crushing tomatoes with wooden spoon. (Sauce should be just lightly thickened but still loose enough to slurp nicely into hollows of pasta.)

Just before serving, toss together sauce and pasta with 2 to 4 tablespoons freshly grated Romano cheese. Garnish with basil leaves and pass more grated Romano at table. Makes 2 to 3 cups.

This sauce is loosely adapted from a recipe for basic tomato sauce in the Italian kitchen bible, Ada Boni’s “Il Talismano della Felicita” (“The Talisman of Happiness”), a wonderful book that has never received a good English translation. Note the chopped mixture of aromatic vegetables and herbs or odori, which is characteristic of much Italian cooking.

SIMPLE TOMATO SAUCE

4 pounds unpeeled tomatoes, coarsely cut up, or 2 (28-ounce) cans whole tomatoes

1 medium onion

1 large carrot

1 large celery stalk with leaves

Small handful fresh parsley leaves

8 to 10 fresh basil leaves or dash dried oregano

4 to 6 tablespoons olive oil

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

Lightly drain tomatoes if they seem watery. Finely chop together onion, carrot, celery, parsley and basil. Heat olive oil in large, wide non-aluminum saucepan over medium heat. Add tomatoes and chopped vegetables. Cover and simmer about 30 minutes.

Increase heat and cook, uncovered, stirring occasionally, another 10 to 15 minutes (or longer as needed) until sauce is slightly concentrated. Puree using food mill or food processor. Return sauce to heat. Season to taste with salt and pepper and let simmer few more minutes. Makes about 1 quart, depending on amount of juice in tomatoes and rapidity of evaporation.

Translators gnash their teeth over “sugo,” which can mean anything from “sap” to “pithy idea.” Applied to sauces, it usually, but not always, indicates something infused with rich meat juices. The point of “finto” (“false,” “mock”) is that you are supposed to get a fine meaty flavor without the expense of using fresh meat. This recipe is another adaptation from Ada Boni.

SUGO FINTO (Mock Meat Sauce)

2 pounds ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded and coarsely chopped, or 1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes, undrained

1 medium carrot

1 medium onion

1 medium stalk celery

1 tablespoon olive oil or butter

2 ounces pancetta or prosciutto fat or salt pork

1 large clove garlic

Small handful parsley leaves

1 to 1 1/2 cups water, white wine or juice reserved from tomatoes

Large dash dried oregano, optional

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

Drain tomatoes in colander over bowl. Chop together carrot, onion and celery very fine or coarsely puree in food processor. Heat olive oil in wide, shallow non-aluminum pan over medium heat. Gently saute carrot, onion and celery until fragrant and tender.

Mince pancetta with garlic and parsley until almost paste. Or process mixture to coarse paste in food processor. Add mixture to vegetables. Cook over low heat, uncovered, stirring frequently. After few minutes, as fat begins to render out of meat, add few tablespoons water to juice and let boil away.

Gradually add remaining water, few tablespoons at time, simmering 10 to 15 minutes longer or until liquid has been absorbed and vegetables are soft paste. (Aim is to let flavors infuse while ingredients lightly braise without scorching.)

Add tomatoes and oregano. Simmer, uncovered, 20 to 30 minutes, occasionally stirring and crushing tomatoes with wooden spoon, until sauce has good consistency. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Makes about 2 1/2 cups.

All sauce-makers who have handled first-class American globe tomatoes at the peak of ripeness know that these tomatoes really want to be soup. So, on occasion, do American plum tomatoes. Many years ago I paused in the middle of cursing my too-liquid sauce and said, “Why not?” and served it as tomato soup--the best I’d ever eaten. Proportions are unimportant as long as the tomatoes are the real thing.

FRESH TOMATO SOUP

3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil plus additional for flavoring

3 medium onions or 1 large, chopped, or 3 to 4 large shallots, minced

4 medium or 2 large cloves garlic, minced

5 pounds very ripe tomatoes

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

Large dash dried oregano or marjoram or small sprig fresh basil

1 tablespoon balsamic or other mild vinegar or to taste, optional

Dash sugar, optional

Heat 3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil in large, non-aluminum saucepan over medium heat. Saute onions and garlic 7 to 8 minutes or until tender and translucent. Cut unpeeled tomatoes into quarters or eighths and add to pan. Cover and simmer over low to medium heat about 5 minutes or until tomatoes begin to give off their juice.

Increase heat slightly and continue to simmer, stirring occasionally, until tomatoes are completely tender and swimming in own juice, about 15 to 45 minutes, depending on quantity and how crowded pan is.

Carefully put soup through food mill. Force through as much tomato mixture as possible. (Alternatively, tomatoes can be pureed in batches in food processor, but texture will not be as good.)

Return pureed tomatoes to pan and bring to simmer. Season to taste with salt, pepper and oregano. Simmer 5 to 10 minutes to amalgamate flavors. Taste to adjust seasonings. If bland, add balsamic vinegar or other mild, rich-tasting vinegar. If necessary, take off any acidic edge with dash of sugar and whisk in another 1 to 2 tablespoons olive oil just before serving. Makes 2 quarts or 6 to 8 servings.