Lasagna

Adapting a recipe from bits of others found online, I made lasagna tonight because I wanted a dinner featuring the sweet fennel sausage I’ve enjoyed at Frankies. I took the 1 down to Greenwich Village yesterday and bought a few links from the same shop Frankies gets theirs, Faicco’s Pork Store, “the finest sausage and Italian specialties since 1900.”

But that’s just an excuse because I like lasagna and would have made one regardless. When we were kids, my Mom had a super-shortcut version, which is not sexy but likely inspired by having three mewling, hungry children: she used spaghetti sauce and in addition to mozzarella, added cottage cheese. My recipe still has shortcuts: I didn’t use fancy cheese for any of the three types, and canned tomatoes I don’t have a problem with. I did use fresh basil although I had the bunch pushed too far back in my fridge and about 90% of it froze and wilted horribly. But there were enough surviving leaves for the recipe.

And I used wine (Montepulciano d’Abruzzo) that met my two strict criteria: cheapness ($8) and the first bottle I picked up that claimed its contents were “dry.” The label further claims that the wine pairs well with seafood, pasta (with “red sauce or cream sauce”), red or white meat, Asian food, pizza, hamburgers, Mexican food and “mild to strong cheeses.” Apparently it does not go well with hot dogs.

I have changes to consider next time. I would not put the Parmesan—or so much of it—on top. It browned well and I’ve always enjoyed crispy toppings in Pyrex-based oven-dinners but the cup of Parmesan ossified into a super-crème brûlée-like crust that was difficult to cut cleanly into orderly servings.

I would add more fresh basil or add it at a later point in the cooking. I couldn’t taste it well and wanted to: my idea was that it would be a crisp balance to the heaviness of all that meat, cheese and starch.

The amount of sausage may not seem like a lot to you—at Fiacco’s, a half-pound is a mere three bratwurst-sized links. But I think it was the perfect amount. I removed the casing and crumbled it up into pea-sized pieces to spread it around; I’m not a fan of tons of meat in lasagna. You get too much in there, as many recipes do, and you’re flirting with meatloaf that happens to have noodles in it.

The mozzarella all but disappeared. I may need to add more or add it to a layer apart from the ricotta, which survived (nicely) intact, but which I should have mixed with an egg (for better spreadability; plus, that’s traditional) and maybe some chopped parsley.