Veal Bolognese: A Slow-Simmered Taste of Autumn

Now that it’s finally October and I’m no longer afraid to turn on the oven and accidentally heat our entire mountain cabin to the temperature of Palm Springs in July, you better believe the slow-roasted autumn favorites are back. And right near the top of that list is Veal Bolognese—rich, slow-simmered, tomatoey Italian comfort food that tastes even better when there’s a chill in the mountain air and I’ve finally traded summer flip-flops for UGG hiking boots.

There is just something about fall that makes me want a giant Dutch oven bubbling away for hours while the cabin smells like garlic, wine and tomatoes. Pumpkin spice is lovely and all, but eventually a woman needs protein. And what says hello, autumn more than a steaming bowl of homemade Veal Bolognese?

Well, a small-town rodeo, obviously.

Cowboy Boots, Thunderheads & a Big Bear Lake Rodeo

Here in our hometown of Big Bear Lake, California, we recently had our first local rodeo since 1997 over Labor Day weekend, and this small-town event was a massive success. I honestly cannot imagine a more beautiful setting for a rodeo. Thunderheads were building behind the metal grandstands, the aqua-colored waters of Big Bear Lake shimmered in the distance and thousands of people showed up in cowboy boots and Stetsons ready for an afternoon of good old-fashioned small-town fun.

And actual family fun at that.

It was such a fun, genuinely family-friendly afternoon in a world where “family time” increasingly seems to mean four people sitting on the same couch staring lovingly into four different iPhones.

Thank you, rodeo, for reminding me that families can apparently still spend an entire afternoon together without anybody building a virtual castle, fighting a digital dragon or asking where the Wi-Fi password is. Thank you, rodeo, for reminding me of the way America was.

There were 4-H kids, cowboys and families from around California and Nevada having a great time in cowboy boots. Before the rodeo began, there was even a prayer for the cowboys and the farm animals. For one afternoon, Big Bear Lake felt a little less like Southern California and a little more like one of those small towns you stumble across while road-tripping through Idaho, Montana or Wyoming. And I loved every minute of it.

These two Bad Hombres were released on the town of Big Bear Lake the night before the rodeo to rustle up a little trouble of our own. Give me cowboy boots, country music, a mountain-town sunset and an excuse to wear an unnecessarily large belt buckle, and apparently I am very easy to entertain. The rodeo community is absolutely our kind of fun.

Not Everyone Was Ready to Saddle Up

Of course, because this is California, we couldn’t possibly have a rodeo without weeks of social-media outrage beforehand. Some of our more kaftan-loving, blue-haired local residents were not exactly thrilled about this down-home country tradition coming back to Big Bear Lake.

After weeks of complaining online, though, the much-discussed protest apparently never materialized. Instead, thousands of smiling people in Stetsons and cowboy boots filled the stands. Turns out the Cowboy Boot Brigade may have slightly outnumbered the Facebook Comment Section Coalition.

And that brings me, naturally, to veal.

Veal Bolognese: Because Fall Deserves the Good Stuff

When I started researching how other cooks make the best homemade Bolognese sauce, I was surprised by how rarely I found veal playing a starring role. You’ll find plenty of beef Bolognese, pork and beef combinations and traditional-style ragù recipes, but I wanted the delicate richness that veal brings to a long, slow-cooked sauce.

After all, Italians have been cooking with veal forever, and personally, I’m perfectly comfortable admitting that farm-to-table occasionally involves an actual farm animal—even if saying that makes my liberal BFF from high school clutch her organic oat-milk latte a little tighter.

For me, veal is what turns a good fall pasta dinner into something special. A slowly cooked Italian veal ragu develops this incredibly rich, silky flavor without becoming overwhelmingly heavy. Let it simmer with tomatoes, aromatics, herbs and red wine and suddenly your cabin smells like you’ve been cooking all day in Bologna rather than wandering around Big Bear Lake in cowboy boots.

This is the kind of fall comfort food I start craving the minute nighttime temperatures drop. So why aren’t more culinary influencers making veal pasta sauce? Well, if you live in Southern California, I have a pretty good theory. We can’t find the damn veal.

Why Is Veal So Hard to Find in California?

Try putting veal—or heaven forbid, goat brains—on the menu in Southern California these days and you’d think you’d announced plans to barbecue a Disney character.

Veal has become surprisingly difficult to find at many of the regular supermarkets where I shop. I remember years ago, before 2018, when Prop 12 passed and veal became nearly impossible to find on grocers’ shelves.  Being able to pick up veal for homemade meatballs started turning grocery shopping into a scavenger hunt.

California’s Proposition 12 is part of the story, although it did not ban veal in California. The measure, approved by voters in 2018, established minimum housing requirements for calves raised for veal and prohibits California businesses from knowingly selling uncooked veal from animals raised in conditions that don’t meet those standards. Because, heavens, farm animals have rights too. This is California, after all. For veal calves, the law established a minimum of 43 square feet of usable floor space.

So California didn’t outlaw veal. It narrowed which veal products can legally be sold here based on how the animals were raised. That can affect sourcing and availability, which helps explain why shoppers may encounter fewer options

Still, from where I’m standing with an empty grocery cart, the timing certainly felt dramatic. As Teslas multiplied across Southern California freeways, veal seemed to disappear from my regular grocery stores faster than you could say organic vegan mushroom-reishi oat-milk latte. Man, do I miss those veal meatballs.

Where to Find Veal in Southern California

So where can you buy veal in Southern California when your regular grocery store looks at you like you just requested freshly harvested woolly mammoth?

One place I’ve had luck is Bristol Farms. The Southern California specialty grocer has full meat and seafood departments at many of its stores, and its online shop currently lists ground veal. Obviously, inventory can change by location, so I would call the butcher counter before driving across Southern California on a Veal Bolognese emergency.

Then there is Wild Fork, basically Disneyland for people who get more excited about unusual proteins than Mickey Mouse. Their current selection includes ground veal as well as cuts such as bone-in veal osso buco. Wild Fork is the kind of place where I walk in for one pound of ground veal and somehow emerge contemplating bison steaks, elk and several other game proteins I absolutely did not need until I saw them sitting there. Wild Forks is awesome but they have prices that would make Whole Foods shoppers cry.

So why can specialty markets like these carry veal while I rarely see it at my everyday supermarket? It’s not that other California stores can’t legally sell veal. They can sell compliant veal. Specialty meat retailers simply have more incentive to source niche products that meet California’s requirements when there is enough customer demand to justify it.

Which means my Veal Bolognese is still possible. It just requires a little more determination—and possibly a cooler in the back of the Jeep.

Why Veal Makes Such a Good Bolognese

Once you’ve successfully completed the Great Southern California Veal Hunt, this is where the fun begins.

Veal has a mild flavor and tender texture that works beautifully in a slow-cooked Bolognese. Rather than overpowering the tomatoes, wine and aromatics, it becomes part of that rich, velvety sauce. That’s exactly what I want from an Italian veal ragu. This is not Tuesday-night spaghetti sauce that you dump out of a jar while standing over the sink.

This is October food. This is put on the fluffy winter booties, pour a glass of red wine and let something delicious simmer for hours in your favorite Dutch oven. Because this is how we do it when the leaves begin to change colors and the temperatures drop.

It’s the kind of dinner I want after spending the afternoon hiking through Big Bear’s autumn colors or coming home from some country mountain-town shenanigans in cowboy boots. Pumpkin spice can be my breakfast latte. Veal Bolognese gets dinner.