Lasagna

As part of the Staff Challenge, one has to cook a meal by herself. I don't like to cook for other people. It stresses me out, A LOT.

So last week when we had no guests, I pounced on the chance to cook for just the staff to complete this challenge.

We were scheduled to have lasagna. No problem, I have helped mom make it before.

So I spent the day psyching myself up for the task at hand. I decided I could start preparations at 4:30 for a 6:00 supper. In the mean time, a German group showed up for a tour, and I took it because Louise took the one earlier that day. That was at 3:30. Neither Louise nor I thought that one through. It was clear she should have taken it so that I would have time for dinner. Plus they were German, and she knows how to speak German.

So after the most awkward tour of my life, I headed to the kitchen at 4:40.

I pulled out the recipe and it said, "start sauce at 4:00." Shit! I immediately went into panic mode. I ran into the cellar, grabbed ingredients, came back up, went back down for the ingredients I forgot, came back up, ran to the fridge, forgot what I was suppose to get, went back to the recipe, memorized the list, gathered the rest of the ingredients, and then stood in front of the preparation counter not really able to think about anything because my brain had gone into fight or flight mode.

Now, a calm person might have taken time to stand there and contain themselves, then read through the recipe.

Well, not me. I just started with the first line and threw shit in a pot.

The first part was to make white sauce. I wasn't sure why I needed to make it because my mom never did, but hey this isn't her recipe. And the lasagna always tasted good here. So I made it. Of course not without spilling flour all over the floor, smearing butter all over the counter, and burning my finger first.

Then the next part of the recipe was to put tomato paste in. Into what? The pot with the white sauce, another pot? Well, it must be the white sauce. Who had two sauces for their lasagna? So in the pot it went, along with the canned tomatoes, the bay leaves, and a few more things.

About this time I looked at the time line of the recipe and realized that dinner was going to be late. Luckily, Sarah walked in about that time, and I told her it would be late. She asked if everything was ok. She must have asked after her seeing the huge mess I had made so far. I had tomato sauce on the counter and floor, the flour was still there as well as all the other ingredients I spilled in my true Jena way.

"Yes, everything's fine."

Now see, this is the time I should have said, "No Sarah, I think I should try the challenge another day, will you go get Louise to come help me?"

But I didn't.

So after her departure, I looked at the recipe again and realized that since I didn't have an hour to bake the lasagna, I'd boil the noodles before assembling this lovely Italian casserole. So I put a pot of water on to boil.

Back to the recipe. It said to steam spinach at 4:30. Well, shit. Ok, well put another pot of water on. Done.

Then it said to bring the sauce to a boil. Ok, turned the heat up. I went ahead and preheated the oven as well. That's the way to think ahead.

Now let me give you a bit of a visual to understand what I might have looked like while doing all of this.

When I panic, I tend to move really fast with my feet, really slowly with my arms. Or the opposite depending on what I'm doing. And I am constantly heading in a direction, stopping, and shaking my hands. Then turning around in the opposite direction because I can't remember the list I was cycling through my head.

The sauce began to boil. And by boil I mean little airbubbles were rising from the bottom of the pot and popping at the top of the sauce to spray tomato all over the place. You see, about this time I realized that I was suppose to keep the white sauce and tomato sauce separate. The sauce was too thick to boil without a lid over it. After being pelted with sauce, I managed to get a lid on and turn the heat down.

I greased the pans, and by greased I mean took a hunk of butter in my fingers and spread it across the pyrex dishes. Which means, I got butter EVERYWHERE. Then I threw the noodles in the boiling water (and I do mean threw) and put the spinach in the strainer in the pot to steam.

Ok, time to clean up a bit in case someone comes in. So I did a few dishes and made a salad. Because up until this point I forgot about the salad.

Salad done, check on the noodles, sauce, spinach. All is ready for assembling.

So I take the spinach out in the strainer and plop it on the counter. I should have held it over the sink first. Green water spread out over the counter and onto the floor. Now, a calm cool collected person would have put the strainer back in the pot after emptying all the water out of it. But instead I just shifted things further down the counter and let the green water spread.

I didn't strain the noodles. I thought tongs would work fine.

And the sauce, well it had burned to the bottom of the pot, but there was still enough not burnt to make the lasagna with.

So I pulled some noodles out - they were cheap and all stuck together. And did I mention I didn't strain them. So they were still boiling hot. But after several burns, "shits" and much toil, I got the first layer of noodles on.

Then the sauce, spinach, oh yes, the spinach. I should have taken it out of the strainer and separated it a bit first. It comes in these frozen spinach cubes, so when it heats up, you should use a fork or something to spread it out a bit so it's more like spinach than food product. But I didn't. And it was boiling hot too. So after more burns, "shits" and much toil, I got some spinach out and on the first layer. Then the cheese, simple enough.

And it continued like this for three more layers.

They were assembled and it was 5:50. The lasagna should bake for an hour. So I said, "I'll give it 30 minutes. The noodles are done, no worries."

About 6:00 is when everyone started to show up and check on me. Luckily, I had cleaned up the green pond the spinach created, scraped the burnt sauce off the pot, and cleaned the giant mushy mess that was the kitchen counter off before they arrived. I looked calm, cool, and collected.

When I finally rang the dinner bell, I had successfully warned everyone that this might be the worst lasagna they ever had.

It wouldn't cut properly.

And someone made a comment that it was more like lasagna stroganoff (should have read ahead about having two sauces).

And then Louise started to laugh. I asked her what was funny.

"You're back. You have tomato sauce all down it."

Ah yes, the boiling tomato sauce. But it was sort of tastey, and I survived. And Sarah signed off on my challenge. And I slept well that night.