Lasagna

My husband does not like lasagna.

At least, he thought he didn’t. And I get it. The lasagna he thought he knew contains too much of everything: cheese and a cloyingly sweet meat sauce… kinda like… a cheeseburger helper with layers. In my eleven years of knowing him, I have never made us a lasagna, because when I tried to explain the lasagna I knew and loved: one that is comprised entirely of fresh egg noodles, béchamel, and a pork ragu… he kinda did not believe me… and he also thought that béchamel was just melted cheese disguised as a sauce… regardless of how much I protested it isn’t.

He hates cheese.

Ok, ok… hate is a strong word… but when it comes to the world of cheese, he’s… extremely particular. I remember the time I made him soft scrambled eggs with gruyere when we first started dating and he pretty much took one bite, looked like he was about to barf, and pushed it away apologetically. I was horrified. That’s when I found out his aversion to the stuff.

Anyway, I am still trying to figure out his boundaries with cheese after over a decade of having known him. I know a few things to be true:

1) He almost always prefers FRESH cow’s milk cheese. Burrata, fior de latte, ricotta (but only when used in ravioli or in pancakes; he does not want to see it splayed out as a visible ingredient), mascarpone (only in a cannoli or in a tiramisu… again… mostly hidden or mixed in with other ingredients), paneer (sparingly), queso fresco, oaxaca, cotija, asadero, or any type of Mexican cheese… but only when it is served to him in an authentic Mexican dish by an actual Mexican who will not do omissions or substitutions… aka… he will eat this stuff in Mexico but not really anywhere else that will allow him to omit the cheese if given the choice.

2) Parmigiano reggiano, yes, but ONLY as a seasoning element… aka… the way Italians use it. He will not eat it on its own.

3) He will eat blue cheese in a really good cobb salad OR when accompanied with a really good red wine or port.

4) He will ALWAYS eat brie as long as it is on the milder side. He probably won’t touch a baked brie; the melty texture turns him off. He will eat blue brie only when accompanied with things like toasted walnuts, pears, prosciutto.

He’s… yeah. Wow. I love him… but wow.

One evening, we went on a Pasta Grannies and Pasta Grammar YouTube bender, and we came across some episodes where lasagna ala bolognese was being made. I harrumphed with glee. “THIS,” I told him, “is what I was referring to all this time!” And then, of course, I had a remarkably sublime experience eating lasagna for lunch one afternoon over at Livia… so… me making lasagna has been a LOOONNNGGG time coming.

I am sure a lot of Italians will snub my version. I had a cranky ol’ Italian woman disparage me recently for placing my radicchio salad on the same plate as my lasagna. OH, THE HORROR! It’s all good though; I laughed it off. She’s mostly super nice and an incredible cook; she just likes adhering to the tried and true classics, so I get where she is coming from. I am a Filipinx though… what can I say? I put both my salad and my main on the same damn plate, k? (Hashtag DONTHATE.)

This lasagna takes quite a bit of time of make, so make this a whole day affair if you plan to have this for your dinner. There are four parts: the ragu, the egg noodles, the béchamel, and the assembly. Let’s get started.

Bowl by the inimitable Janaki Larsen

Lasagna ala Bolognese
(with a slight twist)

Pork Ragu
1 lb. ground pork
4 fresh Italian pork sausages, casings removed
(I used the Montalcino from Oyama Sausages; it’s flavoured with fennel and white wine)
1 large onion, fine dice
5 stalks celery, fine dice
3 medium to large carrots, fine dice
2 jars (2 x 680 mL) tomato passata, plus some water to clean the jar
3 fresh bay leaves
1 tbsp chili flakes (optional)
salt and Parmigiano Reggiano to taste

Béchamel
4 tbsp. butter
1 shallot, fine dice
1/2 cup all purpose flour
4 cups whole milk
1 lemon, juiced and zested
1/8 tsp. nutmeg, freshly grated
salt, freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano, and fresh cracked black pepper to taste

Spinach-flecked Egg Pasta
4 cups spinach
5 eggs
500 g. 00 flour

Assembly
ricotta
Parmigiano Reggiano

Make the ragu:

1) Turn on the stove: medium to medium-low heat. Use a stock pot or large Dutch oven. Soften the celery, onion, and carrots in enough olive oil to coat the vegetables.
2) Add the fresh sausages to the softened vegetables. Once it has browned slightly, add the ground pork. Stir the ground meats until you see no more raw pieces.
3) Add in the jarred passata and bay leaves. Make sure to wash the insides of the jars with some hot water and include this tomato swill into the mixture. Turn the stove temperature down to low. Place the lid on and simmer for two to three hours until the passata has thickened. Make sure to check in on the ragu and give it a stir from time to time.
4) Season the ragu with salt and a geneorous grating of parmesan.

Make the spinach-flecked egg noodles:

1) Blanche the spinach in boiling hot water for 1 minute or until wilted. Quickly transfer into an ice bath. Squeeze out the extra water and chop the leaves as finely as you can.
2) Turn out the flour onto a clean surface and make a well in the centre. Place the finely chopped spinach in the centre of the flour well and crack in the five eggs. Working outwards from the centre of the well with a fork, scramble the eggs, then slowly bring the flour into the wet mixture.
3) Once the dough has combined slightly, knead to form a homogenous dough. It will be sticky at first; keep at it. Continue to knead until the dough is smooth and the spinach flecks has been fully incorporated. Wrap the dough in a bit of parchment paper and let it rest for at least a half hour.

Hot tip: I made the dough the night before and let it rest overnight in the fridge and rolled it out the next day. Cut the dough into 8 workable sections. I do not have a big enough rolling pin (nor the confidence, really) to roll it by hand, but I had my trusty pasta rolling machine! I basically started at notch 1 and rolled the dough until I reached notch 6. Make sure to keep flouring the counter and your machine to prevent any sticking. I also used sheets of lightly floured parchment paper on which to lay the noodles while I worked on rolling out the rest of the dough.

Cut the dough into lasagna-like strips… about 2 to 3 inches wide and 8 inches long; mine was definitely not perfect and is super rustic; I prefer it that way.

Boil a pot of salted water and cook the noodles. Once the noodles float, it is ready to take out. Lay the noodles in between sheets of paper towel and cover the whole lot with a tea towel until assembly.

Make the béchamel:

1) In a saucepan over medium-low heat, melt the butter. Add in the finely chopped shallot to soften.
2) Add the flour. Cook until the flour starts to smell nutty and toasted.
3) Pour in the milk and whisk vigorously until you see no lumps in the sauce. Mixture should be thickened to a gravy-like texture. Grate in the fresh nutmeg and season with parmesan, salt, pepper. Add the zest and juice of one lemon and mix.

Assemble the lasagna:

1) Preheat the oven to 350°F.
2) I used a 9.5 in x 9.5 in baking dish with tall sides. Place a layer of ragu on the bottom of the dish.
3) Place a layer of noodles.
4) Layer on the ragu. On top of the ragu, layer on the béchamel. Dot the béchamel with fresh ricotta, about 2 heaping spoonfuls—not too much! Grate parmesan on top of the ricotta/béchamel.
5) Continue the layers: noodles, ragu, béchamel, ricotta, parmesan. I got about seven layers in my baking dish.
6) For the final layer, I spread on twice the amount of béchamel as I did with the layers, dotted the top with ricotta, and finished with a final flourish of parmesan.
7) Place some tin foil over the baking dish and bake with the foil on for 30 to 40 minutes.
8) Turn the broiler on high. Take off the foil and broil the top for about a minute.

Serve slices of lasagna with some mixed greens or bitter radicchio. You can garnish each lasagna slice with torn basil leaves, some more freshly grated parmesan, and a drizzle of good quality olive oil.

My husband loves this. It’s basically an open-faced meat ravioli to him. Yes, I added ricotta to mine instead of using just the béchamel, but it works. Well… I think it does, anyway. The result in a not-too-cheesy lasagna that is deceivingly lighter than its usual North American counterparts.

If you are at all feeling mighty ambitious in the kitchen, definitely give this a try! It shouldn’t be too hard, right? We’ll be in lockdown for some time, anyway. Oh boy.

Happy cooking!

xo,
Issha