I've often found that my appreciation for a store-bought jar of pasta sauce can be considered slightly controversial. “Just make your own,” my friends who are most likely to go full Dan Barber when setting up a dinner party will scold me, condemning me for spending my time making something they’ll say is better because it’s “fresh”—as if I don’t do that already.

And yes, when I’ve got a little more time, I’ll crack open a can of Central California and Napoli peeled tomatoes—instantly defeating the idea of freshness, by the way, as if I’ve got vines of ripened tomatoes at my disposal all year in New York.