I spent some time recently reading through blogs and recipes where people posted their Nonnas’ sauce recipes. Everybody’s Nonna had their own sauce, and amazingly they are all about 95% the same recipe. They may use different meats, or meatballs, or spare ribs, or beef, but all pretty much are a standard tomato sauce with some combination of/and/or onion, green pepper, garlic, basil… And they’re all awesome of course. We have one that we call Sugo – and it’s awesome, even if my weirdo Italian family has some vampire-like garlic aversion. I was thinking – hey maybe I can make a bunch of different Nonna sauces and blog about it (Sunday Sauce, Ragu, Gravy, Red Sauce – they go by many names). But truly – it’s all more or less the same thing. Which is awesome – don’t get me wrong. But this rabbit-hole led me around to the recipe from the 2025 Netflix original movie, Nonnas – a ridiculously fun but medium-bleah film with a lovely premise and baffling directorial/script choices. I watched it once, like six months ago. Here’s what I remember and I may or may not fact check at the end:
Read more: Nonnas: A Half Remembered Review and a Big Pot of SauceA child grows up in a working class New York neighborhood – probably Brooklyn? – around the 1960’s? He has a beautiful mother who makes tomato sauce with his Nonna in a stereotypical Italian household. Food porn scenes ensue – cooking, big family, men smoking cigars maybe? grating cheese, mangia! etc. Happiness. Fast forward to the late 2000’s-ish. Beautiful mother has passed away and the child has turned into a shambling, hulking, sad-sack Vince Vaughn. For an actor known for his fast-talking humor, he wanders through the movie as if lost – like he got called in last minute to replace Kevin Spacey or something and lost his copy of the script on day two, deciding to wing it, dialogue-wise. Even when he doesn’t have his hands in his pockets, kicking desultorily at rocks, he’s somehow serving desultory optimism throughout the entire performance.
Anyway, Vince (Joe maybe? Joe seems like it would be his name.) Is sad and mopey but weirdly optimistic. He works for the city in some sort of supervisory, blue-collar role – maybe a bus depot? He sees a beloved neighborhood restaurant is closing and gets inspired to open a new place to honor his mother, where all the food is made by Nonnas. He has no business sense, no idea how to run a restaurant, and not much money. He hangs around a couple who may be his cousins played by Drea DeMateo (unvaxxed, unbothered, unlikeable), and Joe Manganiello, who has the thankless role of just trying to be the hot voice of reason and do all the construction work, hotly. There are many conversations where they’re like “You don’t know how to run a restaurant, you big meatball!” and Vince is like “You’re my hot cousin and you have to do all the construction work for free!” I’m paraphrasing.
Enter the Nonnas, poorly written and delightfully played by Talia Shire (lovely – nice to see you!), Brenda Vaccaro (always a treat in everything), Lorraine Bracco (my spirit animal, were I only worthy), and Susan Sarandon (still somehow hot also). They distrust each other for being from different regions of Italy, and spit on the floor. They get together to cook, bicker, have a stupid food fight scene, then a super fun random makeover scene while they learn to like each other and open up about their lives and pasts. More food porn ensues. Lorraine Bracco yells a lot and wears amazing glasses. Talia Shire is a runaway nun I think? Nobody questions the wisdom of a business plan that revolves around four senior citizens doing hard manual labor and working restaurant hours. There is a kitchen fire and a sheep’s head. Lorraine throws penne at someone and yells about oregano and I’m like “I just love her.”
Restaurant construction continues, with Joe Manganiello hotly carrying boards and pipes and whatever, flexing his muscles and constantly reminding the vague Vince Vaughn that this is going to be a disaster. He probably has lines like “This is going to be a disaster you dumb calzone!” and he looks hot saying them. Vince shuffles and mumbles optimistically in response. Now here comes childhood sweetheart Linda Cardellini who exists in this movie only to be available and pretty and supportive. That’s her whole personality – she’s nice and she is near. She is too talented for this role.
The restaurant’s grand opening: All the Nonnas have the kitchen prepped and ready. There don’t appear to be any waiters or other employees. But despite the cast of hundreds we’ve met, the only people that show up are Joe Manganiello and Drea DeMateo. “The restaurant’s empty you silly salami!” Like literally – none of the construction workers, other family members, Vince’s coworkers, neighborhood residents, any of the Nonnas’ families – just hot Joe and his unvaxxed wife. Vince mumbles and shuffles and shrugs. It looks like he’s out of money and the restaurant will have to close, like two days after it opens. But it doesn’t for some reason and becomes a roaring success somehow. I don’t feel like they ever explain how that happened. Or if they did, I was nodding off. If a lifetime of TV and movies have taught me anything, it’s that some restaurant reviewer writes a glowing review and everyone lives happily ever after, roaring successfully. Then Vince throws a two-person prom for Linda Cardellini to shoehorn some gentle romance into the movie. “Lady In Red” plays in the background, I think. Linda remains nice and near, which is the extent of her role.
Le Fin.
It is… not a good movie, but it has its moments and is based on a true story that probably makes much more sense than how it played out in this film. And I have to assume the real life Joe (or whatever his name is) had a lot more personality and smarts than Vince Vaughn was given to play here. I wonder if he had a hot cousin?
To bring this back to food, if only vaguely, there are some sketchy versions online of the sauce Vince’s mother makes in the opening scene, and it starts with simmering apples to make a kind of light cider and I thought “Why not?”
The rest of the sauce is predictable – tomatoes, onions, garlic, and disgusting green peppers. You just add the cider and Italian sausage and simmer for 4-6 hours. The available recipes are incredibly vague, but honestly? I kind of love it. It doesn’t taste like apples, but there is a mild sweetness and a bit of tang I wouldn’t have been able to identify as apple. Like all the sauces of all the Nonnas in all the world, it’s awesome.
I’ve decided not to fact check, because it’s funnier if I turn out to be right. Was his name Joe? Or was I just thinking about someone else named Joe the whole time?
