Tomato: the one sauce I could ramble about all day long. I consider it perfect, both in mastery and flavor profile. A beginning chef would make a limited number of dishes in professional kitchens, while at super-high 5-star restaurants, they would master one dish at each station. Even with a seasonal menu, learning each dish would bring them one step closer to perfection. I try to perfect certain foods to this day, and I still feel fulfilled when my family expresses how they enjoy my sauce every time.
No joke, I disliked raw tomatoes as a kid, but now I love them: a little salt, some oil, some fresh basil, and cracked pepper. The tomato is a forgiving fruit; it has survived many wars. The one thing that brings tears to my eyes is when a sauce is super sweet or super salty. Carrots are a natural sugar and can easily sweeten the sauce slowly; just cut one in half, place it in the tomato sauce and use it like an aromatic infusion. Eat or discard it when the sauce is ready. I grew up with many influences, so much so that I learned to make Bolognese sauce with honey and bacon fat from my fourth-grade teacher. She was a Jewish American from Southern California. Sunday gravy, made repeatedly, becomes better even with insight from a Russian Jewish bubby at the tender age of six. Each influence along the way makes the sauce better.
One secret ingredient can lead to a great sauce. Mastering any dish takes time, and being done with love, will genuinely make it more satisfying. Trust me. Your audience will enjoy every bite.