Last month, reader Janet Jevtic of Valparaiso emailed me with an early Mother’s Day gift request in the form of a reprinted recipe.
“I enjoy your columns Phil and I’m hoping you’ll re-print your recipe for baked spaghetti please, since I’ve somehow misplaced it over the years. Thank you – Janet Jevtic”
The recipe Janet refers to is one that was originally published in the newspaper on May 25, 2005, and then forever preserved on page 191 in my “More From the Farm” (yellow cover) cookbook. This hearty recipe feeds a large group, and it was especially appreciated when I would make it on weekends back in May 2005, when our mom was finally released from her hospital stays and rehab center durations in South Bend following her terrible car accident in early January 2005.
My recipe is a variation on the original given to me by dear friend, the late, great Irene Jakubowski, who lived much of her life in Valparaiso before retiring to Monticello and her death in 2008. My version adds mushrooms and a few spices. Since I make it my rule not to re-print recipes in my columns, I’ve sent along a copy of this recipe request to Janet to enjoy. Janet realized she had misplaced the recipe after she saw a post on Facebook last year when I posted photos of a baked spaghetti I made for a family Sunday dinner.
Anytime I think of spaghetti, I think of a TV segment I watched in my youth on the series “Ripley’s Believe it or Not!” about “the biggest April Fool’s Day hoax ever pulled by a reputable news organization such as the BBC.”
In 1957, the BBC news show “Panorama” produced an April Fool’s Day hoax story with a 3-minute, black-and-white segment about harvest time for the “spaghetti farmers of Switzerland” and the prosperous fields of “spaghetti trees” near the border of Italy.
“Spaghetti cultivation here in Switzerland is not, of course, carried out on anything like the tremendous scale of the Italian industry,” the voiceover narration explains, provided by respected broadcaster Richard Dimbleby.
“Many of you, I am sure, will have seen pictures of the vast spaghetti plantations of the Po valley.”
In 1957, spaghetti was not widely prevalent in the United Kingdom, and even the canned varieties were treated as “gourmet” and “exotic.”
Adding to the aired segment’s believability was the meticulously produced footage of the faux spaghetti trees with branches laden with heavy strands of spaghetti, all of which was being picked by workers and carefully laid into large flat harvest baskets.
These are a few of the funny narration moments paired with the footage:
•“Another reason why this might be a bumper year lies in the virtual disappearance of the spaghetti weevil, the tiny creature whose depredations have caused much concern in the past.”
•“Many people are often puzzled by the fact that spaghetti is produced at such uniform length, but this is the result of many years of patient endeavors by plant breeders who succeeded in producing the ‘perfect spaghetti.’ ”
•“The last two weeks of March is always an anxious time for the spaghetti farmer for fear of a frost, with the freeze not necessarily ruining the crops, but it does impair the flavor of the harvested spaghetti.”
When viewers called the BBC to ask how to grow their own spaghetti tree, they were told: “Place a sprig of spaghetti in a tin of tomato sauce and hope for the best.”
In the United States, the popularity of spaghetti served in households was far more prevalent on menus as soon as immigrants made their way to “the new country” at the turn of the century.
We also have Italian immigrant Ettore Boiardi, later branded as Chef Hector Boyardee, to thank for introducing canned spaghetti and his easy, at-home pizza kits.
On May 9, 1914, at age 16, he arrived at Ellis Island and was immediately hired to work in upscale Manhattan restaurants, including the dining room at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel and the Plaza Hotel.
In 1917, still using his true last name “Boiardi,” he moved to Cleveland for a generous salary to work first at The Union Club, and then became the head chef at the Hotel Winton, where his Italian cuisine, especially his spaghetti dinners, were deemed exotic and deliciously adventurous as intercontinental cuisine.
In 1924, he left the hotel industry to open his own restaurant in Cleveland.
His reputation and media attention made his restaurant a dining destination and trendy menu hotspot. Guests asked to buy his spaghetti sauce, so he began selling it ladled into milk bottles.
In 1928, he met Maurice and Eva Weiner, who were favorite dining patrons and also owners of a local self-service grocery store chain. They helped him develop a process for canning large quantities of his spaghetti sauce and distribution across the United States through their grocery’s wholesale partners.
Italian Chef Boiardi changed his name to aid his brand of canned and boxed spaghetti products, using a similar moniker, “Chef Boyardee,” and gained commercial success. (Archive image courtesy of Brynwood Partners)
By 1928, the company opened an Ohio factory to meet the demands of national distribution, and soon it was introducing entire boxed dinners as a complete spaghetti meal, including a canister of grated Parmesan cheese, a box of dry spaghetti and a jar of sauce.
In 1938, production had to be expanded and moved to Milton, Pennsylvania, where large fields of tomatoes could be grown nearby and special “dark greenhouses” were created to grow large quantities of needed mushrooms for ingredients.
The brand name was also altered slightly to “Chef Boy-Ar-Dee” because of confusion about the pronunciation of the chef’s name. Using his “new” name spelling, and garbed in signature white chef’s hat, neck napkin scarf and white uniform, sporting his waxed mustache, he began starring in his own radio, print and then television commercials through the 1970s to push his products.
In 1946, he sold the factory operations to American Home Foods but stayed on as brand spokesman, including his likeness appearing on all packaging and can labels. (His last appearance in a television commercial promoting the brand aired in 1979. Boiardi died June 21, 1985, at age 87 in a nursing home in Parma, Ohio, survived by his wife Helen, who died in 1995, with the couple entombed in a crypt at All Souls Cemetery in Chardon Township, Ohio.) Their son Mario died in 2007, but five grandchildren still survive.
He is the great-uncle of American author Anna Boiardi, who wrote “Delicious Memories: Recipes and Stories from the Chef Boyardee Family,” published in 2011.
In 2025, Brynwood Partners acquired Chef Boyardee and the firm continues to use the same likeness on Chef Boyardee-brand products, which are all still made in Milton, Pennsylvania.
The recipe for his simple spaghetti sauce, which Chef Boiardi originally sold attached to milk bottles at his original Ohio restaurants, features basic ingredients, including diced carrots.
Columnist Philip Potempa has published four cookbooks and is the director of marketing at Theatre at the Center. He can be reached at pmpotempa@comhs.org or mail your questions: From the Farm, PO Box 68, San Pierre, Ind. 46374.
Chef Boyardee’s Original Spaghetti Sauce
Makes 10 servings
Ingredients
2 pounds canned peeled tomatoes, discard any packing liquid
6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 cup diced onion
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 cup diced carrots
1-pound lean ground beef
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
5 medium basil leaves, sliced into strips
1/2 cup sliced baby bella mushrooms
Directions
Chop up the tomatoes, then put them through a food mill or press them through a conical sieve or fine mesh strainer to separate out all the juice and pulp from the seeds, the latter of which should be discarded.
Heat the oil in a deep saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and sprinkle it with about half of the salt. Cook, stirring frequently, for about 3 minutes. Turn the heat down if the onions start to brown.
Add the carrots and cook for another 5 to 6 minutes, or until the onions are soft and translucent.
Add the meat and break it up into small pieces. Sprinkle the rest of the salt and the pepper over it.
Cook for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the meat is no longer pink.
Stir in the tomato sauce and the mushrooms. Raise the heat a bit and bring the sauce to a boil. Let it boil for a few seconds, then reduce the heat to a simmer. Place the lid on the pot, slightly ajar and let it cook for about 40 minutes.
After the 40 minutes and the sauce has thickened, stir in the sliced basil, put the lid back on slightly ajar and cook for another 5 minutes.
Dining and Cooking