Skip to main content

Lidia’s lasagna


Lidia's Lasagne"


This dish is one that Mum would have been taught by her mother who in turn would have been taught by her mother and so on. They were all born and raised in a mountain village in southern Italy in the province of Salerno. Much of the cuisine there is what you might call "peasant" food; earthy, rich, a concoction of whatever ingredients they could muster. Today there is something luxurious about it all. I learned how to make it from watching her do it a thousand or more times.


This lasagne is "dry" and certainly lacks a béchamel sauce. It is more of a "cake". The critical difference that people first notice is the presence of salami and sliced egg. It is moist without being wet, the ragu is rich and smokey and the eating experience is one of great oral satisfaction; plenty to chew!


Traditionally, the meat would be a blend of whatever they could get; rabbit, pork, horse et al.  I make it now with a mixture of pork and beef mince, both of which should be as lean and of the highest possible quality.  Even better is beautiful beef shin. You don't want the meat to reduce in the way poor mince does, becoming a grainy mash. The sauce must have a solid structure.


For a large lasagne for several people use about 750g of each meat, two 750 ml jars of good passata, and some large fresh plum tomatoes (about six). You then need a big handful of basil for the sauce and another for the later construction of the lasagne. Salt, pepper (to taste but don't be meek) some oregano, sugar, cinnamon, some cayenne pepper, black olives, red wine, olive oil, onion, garlic and lots of time!


Gently cook the finely chopped onions in the olive oil and begin to add the meat, cooking it gently. Add the chopped garlic now to retain the strength of its flavour. Add the passata, chopped fresh tomatoes, a good glug of red wine, the oregano, seasoning and olives. Tear up the basil and chuck that in too. The cinnamon you need to take care with - just a pinch and a bigger pinch of cayenne. Sugar is often the missing secret ingredient of a good ragu so don't be afraid to put a good heap of it in - about one large tablespoon. Bring it all to the boil whilst stirring and then let it simmer slowly with the lid on. The longer you can do this the better. I generally give it about three to four hours but don't let it dry out; you want a good level of liquid that before stirring, sits about an inch above the meat. Break the shin down into lots of small chunks when it is tender enough. 


To put it all together you want nine eggs (hard boiled and sliced) and about a six inch length of good salami. The best is Cremona salami but if you can't find that, Napoli or Felino is good. Slice the salami to about 3mm thickness and then chop into semi circles.


Smear olive oil into the base of your roasting tin and put down your first layer of egg lasagne sheets. Then cover that sheet with a good helping of the ragu - not too much juice - then scatter the sliced egg and salami around on top of that, tear fresh basil and put that in too and then put your fresh mozzarella slices around as well, randomly but evenly spread. Then lay another sheet of pasta, gently pressing down the layer beneath. If a drizzle of sauce emerges at the edges, you have the right consistency of sauce! Then repeat the process to the top of the tin with the last layer of sauce, salami, mozzarella, egg and basil sitting open.   Then you put it in the oven, covered with foil, at 190 degrees for about 45 minutes to an hour. For the last ten minutes, take the foil off; you want it a bit crispy on the top.  


Note; I always prepare the lasagne when the sauce is hot. I leave it to stand for about ten minutes before putting it in the oven, allowing the pasta to soften - i don't pre-soak or wet the pasta either. You want the layers to be al dente.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Gelb and The Met

Having posted a piece that was kind to critics and thus risking opprobrium from all quarters, I suppose I ought to be wary of writing a piece that is sympathetic to the current opera demon, Peter Gelb.  Let us be clear, I don't know what the detailed financial situation at the Met is, I don't know how its budgets are split and allocated, I don't know how much they spend on sets and productions. I just read selective figures used negatively and that is always something we should be wary of.  What Gelb and the Met are going through is probably entirely unique in the opera world given the scale of economics involved and the accusations of mismanagement that are being thrown around are hard to reconcile with some of the realities; it is certainly true, for example, that Gelb has taken the Met's turnover from $222 million to over $300 million in eight years which doesn't immediately suggest mismanagement, but that is as glib and superficial an analysis as anything else I...

Journalists: keep it simple!

An open letter to Eva Wiseman Dear Eva I read your recent piece on the Guardian website ("Is there anything worse than a man who cries") with mounting horror. I also noted the nearly 3,000 outraged comments below it and, I have to say, you brought it all upon yourself. I have no sympathy, but I am happy to help you by explaining where you went wrong. The most important thing to note - and Eva, this will stand you in good stead hitherto should you hold it in mind - this is 2015. Why is that relevant? Well, this isn't 1928, for example, when a book like "A Handbook on Hanging" by Charles Duff could be published and people "get it". And you're no Henry Root, love, let me tell you. And can you imagine what the world would say now if Clive James's line about that Chinese president "whose name sounds like a ricochet in a canyon" was published on Twitter? There would be bedlam. You can't possibly hope to get away with writing a piece t...

Sometimes, facts really don't matter to people

Since the Brexit vote, and especially since the recent Autumn statement, there has been something familiar nagging at me; the remarkable refusal of Brexiters to accept or acknowledge the facts set out by the government and in the OBR's forecasts. It reminds me of something, a feeling I have had before. I know that the expression post-truth annoys a lot of people, but it is a thing, it really exists. People, for whatever reason can knowingly refuse to accept bare facts when it suits them. It isn't a new phenomenon at all. I am bound to say, moreover, that I have tended to experience it in a malign sense, when the things people want to believe are unconscionable or driven by prejudice of one kind or another. Last night I remembered where it was that I had last seen the phenomenon and it was an experience that left me astonished at the time, but which also provoked in me a genuine disgust for my fellow citizens. I am afraid it is an unpleasant parallel scenario, but it was pro...