lasagne Archives - Page 2 of 2

lasagne

Lasagne recipes are like admitting you’re Spartacus. “I’m the definitive lasagne recipe!” “I’m the definitive lasagne recipe!” To that end, I’m not even sure I’ve cooked it exactly the same way twice. It’s one of those things I’ve been cooking forever and therefore patch the method from time to time. Today was no different.

I went bechamel rather than cheese sauce, and used beef stock over a stock cube (a standard step-skipper in my mince recipes). I also tried to overcome my carnivorous lust of piling everything into one layer, and instead went down the traditional route of many layers of pasta.

A word on the bechamel here: I find it’s always unfairly pasted as a difficult thing to do, but it really isn’t. Melt butter, add flour and allow to cook out a little, until it’s the dullest beige. Add milk slowly, allowing it to absorb each time (much like risotto). Keep going until it reaches the desired consistency. If things look awful, turn up the heat and whisk like mad. At this point it’s ready to take on all the flavours that you want. In this case, grated nutmeg, a smear of English mustard, black pepper and smoked sea salt. I also had some mascarpone left over in the fridge so I doled that out into it to lend a slightly tart, creamy edge.

There’s so mush to adore about lasagne (I suppose this is technially lasagne al forno, but this is the dish all English people picture when you say ‘lasagne’): tender yet chewy pasta, engorged with flavours from above and below, sweet and savoury meaty sauce, creamy and slick white sauce, and crunchy and tangy cheese crust.

Below I’ve detailed what I did this time, though it will be different next time… and the time after that… and the time after that… I’ve yet to try Carmela Soprano’s one, with an additional layer of basil leaves… yum.

Lasagne:

For the beef ragu:

450g beef mince

1 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic

2 tins/cartons chopped tomatoes

500ml beef stock

250ml red wine (pinot noir in this case)

1 tablespoon dried oregano

1 tablespoon dried basil

2 bay leaves

1 tablespoon dark soy sauce

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

For the bechamel:

75g butter

Plain flour

Milk

2 tablespoons mascarpone

Nutmeg

Smoked sea salt

Black pepper

1/2 teaspoon English mustard

For the final dish:

12 dried lasagne sheets

Grated parmesan

Grated cheddar

In a large casserole pan, fry the onion and garlic on a low heat until soft and translucent, about ten minutes.

Turn the heat up, add the mince and fry until browned.

Add the stock and bring to the boil, then add the tomatoes.

Lower the heat, add the other ingredients and leave to simmer while you prepare the bechamel. Pre-heat the oven to 180C.

In another pan, melt the butter. Add enough flour until you get a chalky, plasticiney consistency. Continue pushing this round the pan until you get a pale nut colour. (this calms the floury taste down)

Gradually add milk until it is absorbed. Add the bay at this point too.

Keep adding milk until it reaches a custardy texture.

Add the other bechamel ingredients and continue to stir.

Now take a large ceramic oven dish and start to layer the ingredients. I went for: pasta, mince, white sauce, pasta, mince, pasta, white sauce.

Top with cheese, and decorate with tomato slices and basil leaves. Put in the oven.

Cook until bubbling on top.

For best results, allow to sit for a couple of minutes before serving. The white sauce and cheese will set slightly, and making cutting through it much easier.

Devour with glee.

lasagne alla cacciatore

I’m a big fan of home-made lasagne dishes; as many variations as there are families this side of the Alps. Alternately cheesy, beefy, saucy, chewy… it’s such a warming, filling dish full of flavour that unashamedly reeks of comfort, how could you not love it? I have my own version (of course) that I love to trot out, but my head was turned by this version apparently printed in The Times. I got it from Ocado’s recipe book given with their deliveries. It’s a touch lengthy, requiring a true béchamel and a gutsy tomato sauce but as it’s a Sunday I’ll let it go. None of it is real grind, more a case of letting things simmer.

The dish means “Lasagne in the hunter’s style”, I’m not quite sure where that part comes from. I’ve had cacciatore-style dishes before, which usually means a rich tomatoey base. Lasagne in the classic sense (and when I say classic I mean that in the English way that most of us recognise) is mostly this anyway, so hey-ho. The thing that I understand grates Italians most is the mountain of meat smothering the pasta, which after all is what the dish is named for. So I’ve made a deliberate attempt here to layer the golden sheets inbetween thin peeks of ruddy ragu and let it sing through. I use Waitrose’s fresh lasagne sheets (snob alert!) which have a wonderful chewiness and a light crispy texture when cooked unadorned. They are a wondeful fridge standby too: need papardelle / tagliatelle / faux linguini instead? Just slice as required.

Out of the oven it behaves as it should: patchy brown, angrily bubbling sauce. It was the high point however, it looked much better than it tasted. I felt here the braising steak was not given long enough to develop a tender consistency, despite me giving it longer than prescribed. Additionally the meat hasn’t had long enough to meld with the tomato sauce – the flavours are entirely separate in the mouth, and not in a fulfilling way. Beef mince would have sufficed perfectly. Done again I would brown the meat first, then let stew with the tomatoes for a lot longer – maybe two hours or so. I pushed it a little further in the simmering stage also as there was a heckuva lotta juice in there. Also adding parmesan to this béchamel is overdoing it, and becomes lost among the savoury notes.

On the positive, having chunks of meat is texturally pleasing and gives an interesting mouth-feel. The sage topping is inspired, leaving behind a camphorous perfume that sits atop the cheesiness in a pleasant way. That’s one I’ll be using elsewhere – I adore sage, particularly with oils and dairy, but struggle to find times when it’s appropriate.

In all, an interesting take on a ‘traditional’ lasagne al forno, but ultimately overwrought and trying too hard. I’ll do my usual at some point, and we’ll see how that measures up for time, effort, and taste.

PS. This does give me a chance to proffer one of my favourite lasagne-style meal tips: when taking a dish like this out of the oven, leave it to one side for five minutes or more; the cheeses and sauces will set and meld and make a topping much easier to cut through. This leaves a much tidier and cool-looking wodge of food on the plate.