Trying to Please Everyone Some of the Time

Via Quadronno is just about my favorite restaurant in Manhattan. I came across it one day when The Girl was almost 1 year old and I had gone to Zitomer on Madison because I was convinced she needed more duplo. We turned the corner on 73rd Street and there were a couple of little tables and chairs set out in the sun. I sat down (with The Girl in her stroller) and ordered an Il Toast sandwich (grilled ham and cheese) and a bottle of Moretti. I was in heaven, and have returned, (with The Husband, bringing along a friend or having a great cappuccino all by myself) again and again. The Girl used to know it as The Fancy Schamncy Sandwich Shop, but now knows the place by name. The Husband is a fan of their sandwiches too, but I’ve noticed that when he’s in particular need of comfort and cheer he orders their Lasagna Bolognese.

You should see how happy he is when the bubbling hot au gratin dish is brought to the table. It’s a special treat and it comes with a hefty price. That wonderful, rich lasagna goes for $22.00. I’m not kidding. It’s that expensive, and it doesn’t come with a salad or anything—just a little basket of toasted bread slivers. Is it worth it? Well, there are times that Evan would say “yes,” because it is just that good, but you have to really, really want it.

We’ve been trying to live more within our means and are hunkering down with a new austerity plan. Fancy Schamncy East Side cafés cannot be rationalized easily into this scheme. That’s why I decided that I was going to make Lasagna for dinner.

It took about two days. The first day I made the sauce. I decided to go for a modified Bolognese, substituting turkey instead of the ground beef (which I mostly avoid because of food fears), ground veal (which I avoid because I used to live in Berkeley) and ground pork (which I’d buy if I’d thought of it). I haven’t made lasagna in years and years, the last version being a vegetarian edition (I made it in Berkeley over 14 years ago) that called for 21 ingredients. I wanted a much more basic sauce for this lasagna: onion, garlic, the turkey, some mushrooms, a couple of cans of tomatoes (one whole and one crushed because that’s what I had on hand), some oregano, a little thyme, and some salt and pepper. I let it simmer for hours and hours, filling the house with the promise of something good—later.

The next night I assembled and cooked it. Having cut back on the interesting meats, I decided to go for the cheese: fresh whole-milk ricotta (mixed with grated parmesan, fresh basil and an egg) and fresh mozzarella. I found some lasagna pasta like they use at Via Quadronno too. It’s flat and thin, almost like construction-paper thin, so it doesn’t monopolize the whole thing.

I did the layering thing, and baked and baked and baked it, almost 50 minutes in all. In the meantime I blanched and sautéed some broccoli rabe, adding a clove of garlic to the hot oil to add some zing.

Here it was, my gorgeous lasagna! Days in the making! A synergy of economy and epicurianism. Let the compliments begin! The Husband did exactly what a dear partner should do when someone makes something so layered, so time-consuming, so delicious. He savored it, had seconds, and was openly appreciative. The Girl on the other hand…

Who would have guessed that a kid would refuse to eat lasagna? She picked some of the pasta out of it, separating as many of the ingredients on her plate as she could: tomatoes in one section, cheese in another, mushrooms way over there. She did have a good serving of the veggies, but her dissatisfaction was evident. Two thoughts crossed my mind: I’m glad she didn’t order this at Via Quadronno—and poor kid, we’re going to be eating this for days!