I've spoken often here of T., my best friend and landlord who passed away almost exactly a year ago. T was, among other exemplary things, a fantastic cook but his cooking had one amusing peculiarity: He Couldn't Cook Small. Everything he made, he made in sufficient quantities to feed an entire cell block. He often said there was a self-explanatory reason for this; don't ask. He may have been joking.
Anyway, some months before his death he catered a family reunion of some of our neighbors, and baked lasagna. T's lasagna was absolutely to die for. It was also all the bad things you've heard lasagna is supposed to be: a heart attack in a pan. Anyway, he made two of these ludicrous lasagnas, and the whole assembly only ate one. Our friends froze the other one, planning to have it later. Then T died. We probably should have thawed it out for the wake, but we didn't and it sat in a freezer for over a year. They brought it out for the anniversary dinner, but freezer burn had set in. They left it with me; it took three days to thaw. I had instructions to feed it to the boys. (Slightly OT: There's a standard joke about the boys. No matter what question you ask them, what they actually hear is "Want some cheese?" The answer is YES.)
Anyway, I heated some up and it wasn't as far gone as all that. But I could only eat about half of mine because I've grown used to a basic and rather bland diet and this stuff is rich. It was delicious but kind of upset my stomach. I'm not sure I could even eat pizza anymore, and I love pizza.
The boys had no such problems. They were in heaven. Now my problem is to keep it away from them to keep them from making themselves sick or fighting over it.
Lasagna: Nature's Most Perfect Food. Especially this lasagna.
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