The Story
The sun sat closer to the horizon than I would have liked as I poured the flour onto the counter. I should be done by 8pm, surely. I make a well in the pile of flour, crack four eggs into it, and vigorously whisk with a fork until kneading is required. Slowly, a perfect ball of dough is made, taught and tacky. I sharpen the knife. This needs to be fast. But I should put the tomatoes on heat first before I chop. A colander catches the tomatoes from the can but the juices slide through to the bowl underneath. I smash the garlic on the cutting board that has half a chopped onion on it and throw it into a hot Dutch oven with olive oil. Holy moly, does garlic smell good. The whole tomatoes go in the pot. I use a wooden spoon to smash them, along with the anger I was holding on to from spending two hours fixing my printer earlier today. I come back and chop the vegetables and throw them into a hot cast iron. The oil splashes. Steam plumes. My hand feels burning oil droplets. I get ready to roll the pasta dough. It’s a lot of pasta, so I have to do it in four batches. Pass the pasta through the pasta machine on 7, book fold, then repeat, then repeat, then repeat. I wrinkled it on the last pass, but it’s already 7pm. Screw it. I pass through the 6, 5, 4, then 3.
Fuck! The tomatoes! I scrape the bottom of the pot and the tomatoes are almost burnt. I turn down the flame, then check the vegetables. It smells aromatic. That’s a cooking word, right? I pass the rest of the pasta through the pasta machine and assemble all of the cutting boards. No Chris, you can’t use that cutting board to cut an apple. I need that. You are going to have plenty of lasagna. I drape the pasta on the collection of cutting boards and manufacture each lasagna noodle individually. Aly asked, When is the lasagna going to be ready? I don’t know, maybe 8:30pm now. Jeez, it’s already 7:45pm. I finish crafting the noodles. The kitchen smells glorious, except for the hint of burning. Fuck! I check the tomatoes, I discard a few pieces from the bottom, but otherwise the color is deep reddish brown. The vegetables get thrown in with the tomatoes. Cheese, vegetables, and pasta can’t go wrong, I remind myself. I begin boiling the water; a generous pinch of salt is thrown in water too. In the fridge, I open the cheese drawer and begin to salivate. Parmesan, ricotta, mozzarella. I can’t contain myself as I cut the mozzarella into large slices, eating a few in the process. The water is boiling. With a slotted spoon, I dance around dunking pasta into the boiling water for thirty seconds, then dry the pasta once it comes out. The pasta is blanched and dried, the vegetable sauce is thickened, and the cheese is sliced and shredded. How is it 8:30pm already? Aly asked last time to have an earlier dinner, so now she will surely hate me. A good chopping of herbs, and alas, everything is done. The assembly begins. I layer it with pride, throwing in herbs haphazardly and extra cheese with reckless abandon. Brimming and standing proud, I finish with extra parmesan on top then in the oven. Ray asked, we are headed outside to have some wine on the porch table. Do you want some? No, I reply. After 15 minutes, I singe my face as I open the oven to take a look, but how gloriously cheese bubbles. I sit back. I could clean, but I don’t. 30 minutes in and the top looks light brown, but not ready. It pains me to close the oven one more time. 35 minutes and a golden dish splotched with deep brown bubbles is pulled out of the oven. A lasagna straight out of the oven is a scalding and lacks form when attempting to serve, so I wait for it to cool. It’s 9:15pm. I’ll make a salad with kale, apples, and balsamic vinaigrette. I bring the salad outside first.
“It’s finally ready!” Chris exclaims as he checks the time on his phone.
“Here is the salad, and I’ll go get the lasagna. Does everyone have forks? Drinks?” I ask.
“Oh, we have plenty to drink,” replied Aly.
I grab the mittens and usher the lasagna towards the porch table and onto the cork heat pads. The deck is lit warmly, and Ray’s eyes glow with temptation. Aly passes the salad around as I begin plating up the Lasagna. Once everyone is plated, we all dig in.
“This is the best one yet. Really. Very good,” Ray says despite a mouth full of lasagna.
“I agree. This is wonderful,” Aly chimes.
The evening continued with laughter and discussion. Wine bottles became glass bottles, salad was consumed, and heavenly amounts of cheese began to ravage our digestive systems. I felt fond of something. Not particularly sure what. The food, the people, no longer being stressed about burning the tomatoes. Something could be felt. But it didn’t matter. Whatever was happening, I enjoyed it.
“I can’t wait to cook this again,” I said.
“Please do,” Ray said.
The Recipe
Ingredients
1 Large Yellow Onion
1 Large Zucchini
2 Large Carrots
2 28oz Cans of Whole Tomatoes
1 Box of Lasagna Noodles (you can also make your own fresh pasta but I lack the skill to trust myself with telling you how to make good pasta from scratch)
2 Large Balls of Fresh Mozzarella
16oz tub of Ricotta Cheese
A heaping of Parmesan or another sharp cheese of your choosing
A few sprigs of Basil
A few sprigs of Parsley
Like 6 Cloves of Garlic (you could get away with 3 but the garlic is amazing)
Willingness to spend a few hours in the kitchen
Salt and Pepper
4 Tbsp Olive Oil (Or any other standard cooking oil. I never measure the oil and just pour straight from the bottle to coat but just in case you want a precise amount. You can’t really have too much olive oil)
Instructions
Finely chop the carrots, onion, and zucchini and set aside. Smaller pieces will make a more cohesive vegetable paste.
Finely chop the garlic and set aside.
Get a large bowl and put a colander in the bowl. Open the tomato cans and pour the tomatoes into the colander. Use your fingers to press as much liquid out of the tomatoes as possible. Make sure to save the liquid too.
Put a large pot (A Dutch oven is what I use but any large pot will do) on the stove at medium heat with about half of the oil. Once the oil is hot, throw the garlic in there for about a minute to become very light brown and aromatic (be careful because garlic can burn easily).
Throw the whole tomatoes into the pot. WARNING: the hot oil will splash, so it might be advisable to wear long sleeves. It’s not too bad though if a drop or too gets on your hand though.
Stir with a wooden spoon and crush the tomatoes occasionally. They don’t need to be completely crushed yet since they will soften, just try to break up the big pieces.
After about 7 minutes, the tomatoes should be a deep reddish brown and lightly caramelized. Throw in the tomato liquid you drained from before into the pot. Let this simmer on low heat for 10-15 minutes stirring occasionally.
While that simmers, put a large pan on medium heat with the rest of the olive oil. Throw the carrots, onions, and zucchini into the pan. Stir occasionally.
Once the vegetables have lightly browned, throw them in with the tomato sauce along with a whole sprig of basil (stem and everything, it will be fished out later-- or keep it in as a surprise!) and some salt and pepper (taste as you go to get the salt and pepper just right). This should simmer for a minimum of 30 minutes, so the vegetables and tomato can get to know each other. It can simmer for up to 6 hours on very low heat occasionally, adding water when it gets too thick. You should get a thick paste that isn't watery. If it is watery, let it simmer for longer or drain some of the liquid.
Get a large casserole dish ready and preheat the oven to 350°F. Get the cheeses out and slice the mozzarella balls into slices, a little thinner than your hand. Shred the parmesan and any other hard cheese. Chop some parsley and basil finely.
Get the lasagna noodles out and prepare to assemble (pre-packaged lasagna noodles do not need to be cooked before going into the casserole). This process can easily be changed to your preference. The order in which I layer is pasta, a thin layer of the tomato vegetable paste, thin layer of ricotta cheese, then 6 mozzarella slices. Every other layer, add in parmesan cheese and herbs. The top layer should be pasta, then cheese.
Let bake for 30-35 minutes or until the top is golden brown.
IMPORTANT: This is the hardest step. Wait at least 10 minutes if not 20 minutes before serving. It will be a mess if you try to serve it now (Don’t worry, a large casserole dish will not cool down after 20 minutes. It will still be warm). After waiting, add the rest of the basil and parsley to the top and serve. Then, forget about the dishes until next morning.