The formula blog
3 parts oil, 1 part acid. A fistful of herbs. Salt until it tastes like food. Six sauces that become thirty once you know the logic behind them.
Start with the vinaigrette
About this blog
Sauce is the difference between eating and actually wanting seconds.
The Simple Sauce is a cooking blog about the formulas that live in your head, not on a recipe card. Vinaigrettes. Yogurt sauces. Pesto riffed without measuring cups. The technique behind balancing a sauce that tastes flat — or too sharp, or too rich — and how to fix it in thirty seconds.
None of it is complicated. All of it is worth knowing.
A good sauce isn't decoration. It's the reason the bowl gets eaten. The acid that cuts through richness. The herb oil that makes roasted vegetables taste like a decision. Once you have four or five formulas memorized, weeknight cooking changes shape entirely — because the same sauce works on grain bowls, grilled fish, a pile of steamed greens, yesterday's leftovers.
This is a general food and cooking blog. Nothing here is medical or nutritional advice.
Every sauce has a ratio. Learn it once, use it forever.
Fresh herbs are the fastest upgrade in your fridge.
Season at the end, after the acid lands.
A sauce you can jar and reach for all week.
The notebook
Pick the one that matches your week. They're all short. They all work on a weeknight.
3:1. Oil to acid. Everything else is negotiable — this part isn't.
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Four variations from one base — garlic, herb, cucumber, spiced. All done in five minutes.
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Greens + fat + something sharp. The proportions are loose on purpose.
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Too sharp? Add fat. Too flat? Add acid. Too rich? Add salt. The four-move fix.
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Which ones last a week in the fridge, which need two days, and how to tell the difference.
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Season the grain, sauce the protein, dress the greens. Three layers, one bowl.
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Technique spotlight
You don't need a hundred recipes. You need four types. Learn the logic of each, and improvisation takes over from there.
Vinaigrettes, mayo-based. Oil and acid shaken or whisked until they hold together.
Yogurt, sour cream, crème fraîche. Cold, creamy, acid-ready, fast.
Pesto, chimichurri, green goddess. Fresh greens puréed with fat and something sharp.
Deglazing with stock, wine, or vinegar. The sauce is already in the pan.
The method
Oil, dairy, or purée. This determines the texture and how far the sauce will carry.
Lemon, vinegar, citrus zest. A sauce without acid is just a condiment waiting to taste bland.
Garlic, herbs, spice, mustard. This is the part that makes people ask what's in it.
Taste. Add salt. Taste again. Adjust acid or fat until it snaps into place.
From the kitchen
From the readers
Common questions
3 parts oil to 1 part acid. Red wine vinegar is the classic acid. Dijon mustard helps it emulsify and stay together. Salt, pepper, done. Everything else — honey, shallots, herbs — is optional and very welcome.
Vinaigrettes (no fresh garlic): up to 2 weeks. Dairy-based sauces (yogurt, crème fraîche): 5–7 days. Fresh herb sauces like pesto: 4–5 days with a film of oil on top to prevent browning. Anything with raw shallot or raw garlic goes faster — use within 3 days.
Flat usually means not enough acid or not enough salt. Add a squeeze of lemon and a pinch of salt, stir, taste. If it still tastes flat, try a tiny bit of mustard or a splash more vinegar. Flat and greasy? More acid. Flat but not greasy? More salt.
Yes. Mortar and pestle is traditional, and the texture is actually better — more bruised than blended, which means more flavour. Or finely chop everything by hand and stir in the oil. It won't be as smooth but it'll taste excellent.
A neutral oil (sunflower, grapeseed) cuts the bitterness of a strong vinegar. Extra-virgin olive oil adds flavour — great when you want that. Blending the two (half and half) is a solid default that works with nearly any acid.