Well, I had an appetite by the time we were done but even one square of this stuff fills up the most boundless hunger.
I know I’ve said many times that I love a Sunday meal that is cooking a long time. But maybe it’s best when that’s a one-pot meal, or close to it. Lasagna has a lot of pots.
(No, I’m not adding smoked tuna flakes to this, interesting as that is as an idea—it’s just that when I’ve got a lot of mise-en-place going on, stuff is going to end up on top of other stuff.)
Not for the first time since the pandemic wound down, I was thinking that I wished we were in a habit of just ringing up people hereabouts and saying “lasagna is on tonight, if you want it”. (I too wish I could cut a slice for my friend Misty and have it delivered.) It’s not a thing you can make a small amount of. We’ll eat it out of the freezer after we eat it out of the fridge for the next few days. But the kind of sociality that is “hey stop in and eat, no pressure” has been uncommon for a while in most places and lives way way pre-pandemic, and I get why—there’s no way to keep that from entangling lives and exposing everyday worlds. If you say “come on by for lasagna”, it hard to figure out how to say “and now we gotta get back to working on tomorrow’s lecture” or “veg out time for an hour before bed, see ya” unless that’s part of the rhythm of “hey neighbor”.
I am taken by the observation on the sharing of a meal. So much seems lost in that, not quite solved by a freezer! Thanks for reminding of those ancient days.