(…which was actually two days ago, but a lot has happened since then.)
I was trying to take advantage of my time off to do the things I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much of in the next ten months. So…I wanted to get one last lasagna under my belt.
Every year, my mom’s office has a lasagna-baking competition and the winner takes home the coveted silver spatula. My mother won two years in a row! The first year she did it with this recipe right here: Artichoke and Mushroom Lasagna. It’s not difficult, so I make it from time to time (I like anything that’ll feed me for a solid week…).
Now, I’ve never been able to find frozen artichoke hearts, so I just use the ones in the jar. This time around, however, I had a mighty hard time opening the jars and was desperately longing for a proper jar opener (when I was a kid, we used to have a circular rubber mat that did the trick…but I just learned you can get much fancier ones.) Meanwhile, I was cursing the fates, trying to get the darn thing open…and briefly wished I actually lived with someone else so I could pawn it off on them…but somehow I was able to get both jars open myself. Must have been the sheer terror of not having artichoke hearts in my lasagna that gave me super-human strength for a brief, shining moment?
Also…I never use whole milk. Nonfat works just fine. But I always have trouble with the bechemel sauce (my secret shame? I don’t actually know how to pronounce that word…) – it usually gets all clumpy and stuff and so I add the milk and hope the flour mess becomes a little more saucy. This time, however, I was able to whisk the butter and flour together without incident.