Well, kidding about the okra in any case. We did, in fact, make a lasagne this weekend. I wouldn't have minded okra in it, but then, I am American and Freya says we don't know how to make lasagne.Okay, I'll admit that what generally passes for Italian food in the US would probably go down the waste disposal in Italy, but cottage cheese and spinach are good in lasagne regardless. Besides, Freya isn't allowed a high horse as she grew up in a country obsessed with Spaghetti Bolognese. Actually, with what Brits try to pass off as Italian she doesn't even deserve to ride a pony. This isn't a criticism. I enjoy food of any kind, authentic or not.
The first lasagne Freya made for me was in Wisconsin at my parent's farm. It was her first visit to Door County and while she loved the idea of a pool table at the grocery store, she wasn't too keen on the absence of vegetarian mince. She was reduced to cooking with actual meat. This was difficult for her at the time as she was still flirting with vegetarianism. After letting her win at air hockey, we went back to the house to start cooking. When she started making a Béchamel sauce I was noticeably disgruntled. When I realised there wasn't any ricotta or cottage cheese involved I was suitably disconcerted. After observing that no Italian sausage had gone into the sauce I had to leave the kitchen.
The finished product was good, but not what I was used to. Not lasagna like mom used to make. I was used to the 1970's lasagna that every mother made. The kind that contained either more meat than most slaughterhouses can produce in a day or was completely vegetarian and contained more vegetables than a typical farmer's market. Which type you had was determined entirely by the cultural leanings of the month. Dad's jogging: veggie. It's gonna be a cold winter: meaty. Whichever form it took, it always had cottage cheese and was generally watery. But as a kid living in that decade, an era where we were told we'd be living in space by the year 2000 and when having a sunroof in your car meant your parents were "going places", this was the best meal ever!
So, I tried to make my American version for Freya eventually (In England). When I realised I couldn't get Italian sausage at Tesco I was noticeably disgruntled. When I realised I couldn't buy fluted lasagna pasta here I was suitably disconcerted. After Freya observed that no Béchamel sauce was being made, she had to leave the kitchen. The in-laws enjoyed my version, but they were clearly out of their element. I was officially banned from serving it at family functions after that.
After the first year or so of she and I playing duelling lasagna (lasagne), Freya made us a lasagne following the Anna Del Conte via Tamasin Day-Lewis recipe. What an enlightenment this was! The flavours were bold and complex, but in a way that seemed rustic and steeped in tradition. The rich meat sauce was sweet and savoury owing to the inclusion of carrots, celery, and milk in the early stages. Each layer was distinctive with a creaminess that we had previously found unobtainable.
I think a good lasagne should cut like a martial artists stack of boards. You know, you feel your fork (or knife if you're not American) go through the pasta and then move freely before hitting the next layer of pasta (If you made the crepe cake for the Daring Bakers last month, you know that feeling well.). The best way to achieve this is to make your own pasta. A good lasagne should also stay intact when you cut it, but not be dry or cloying. Very easy to get wrong, but great if done correctly, this is one the most sophisticated down home meals you can make. Once you've followed this recipe, you'll find it comforting in a very familiar way. You only get this feeling from wholesome food..........or ducky slippers.
Lasagne (Serves 1 of me or 6 of you)Taken from Tamasin's Kitchen Bible
Ingredients
2-3 tbsp olive oil
1 knob butter
2 large onions, finely chopped
3 sticks celery, chopped
3 carrots, finely diced
3 or 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1kg/2lb ground beef chuck or similar, with plenty of fat. Substitute 1/3 quantity ground pork if you wish.
salt and fresh black pepper
2 bay leaves
240ml/8fl oz milk
1/4tsp nutmeg
240ml/8fl oz white wine
2 x 400g/14 oz tin plum tomatoes
1.2 litre/2 pints bechamel, made with bay leaf and nutmeg
2 boxes dried lasagne (not the kind that needs precooking) or preferably fresh home made pasta
freshly ground Parmesan cheese
METHOD
Warm the oil and butter in a heavy cast-iron pot, add the onion, and saute gently until softened and translucent. Add the celery, carrots and garlic, cook for another couple of minutes, stirring to coat well. Add the ground beef and a large pinch of salt, and grind over some pepper. Stir until the beef has lost its raw pink look. Add the bay leaves and milk, and simmer gently for about 10 minutes, until the meat has absorbed most of the milk. Add the nutmeg, then the wine and let it simmer until it has nearly evaporated. Add the cut-up tomatoes with their juice and stir thoroughly. Cook at a lazy simmer, mijoter, for 3 hours or more. Stir from time to time. The fat will eventually spearate from the sauce, but the sauce will not be dry. Taste and check the seasoning.
Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F. Pour just enough béchamel to cover the base of your greased baking dish. Add a layer of lasagne, followed by a layer of the ragu, a layer of béchamel and a good handful of Parmesan. Continue with two or three more layers, until your sauces are both used up, add a final sprinkling of Parmesan, and bake in the oven for about 30 minutes. The dish should be bubbling all over, and the knife should slip easily through the layers.
And you might throw in some cottage cheese for old times sake.
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