Comfort Food – Lasagna

Every once in a while, I do something quite genius. And this summer, I had a genius moment. I decided to cook lasagna, the same recipe I’ve used for years from Emeril Lagasse, which calls for ⅓ lb. ground beef, ⅓ lb. ground pork, and ⅓ lb. ground veal. The store I shopped at only sold ground veal in 1 lb. packages. So, in my moment of genius, I decided to buy a pound of each and make, here it is, 3 batches of sauce: one to use then, two to freeze for later. Right?!

This Friday, when I had occasion to make a lovely, homemade meal for a special someone, I decided that since I already had the sauce made, I’d just throw together the cheese filling and boom baby, a home-cooked meal in half the time. And guess what… it worked!

This lasagna is time consuming, but truly delicious. Heavy on the garlic, heavy on the cheese, heavy on the meat, heavy on the comfort.

I’d like to recommend that you throw 3 pots on the stove one afternoon and make 3 recipes of the sauce, then you can feel genius later, too. When you cook up your sauce (or thaw out the one you made before), the kitchen will smell divine.

sauce

Then you can begin to prepare your cheese mixture. I recommend using a food processor for all the grating. It’s a huge time saver. And note: this time I used extra sharp provolone and it was ah-maze-ing.

cheese

Next comes the assembly. Another note: when you live in a 1920s house with no counter space, your assembly station looks like this. Tiny but darling, right?

kitchen

All assembled and ready for the oven…

assembled

In 45 minutes to an hour, you get this. And as a bonus, we used our Christmas dishes!

finished lasagna

Emeril’s Lasagna

Ingredients

2 cups fresh ricotta cheese
8 oz. grated Provolone cheese
8 oz. grated Mozzarella cheese
8 oz. grated Romano cheese
¼ cup milk
1 Tbsp. chiffonade of fresh basil
1 Tbsp. chopped garlic
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 recipe tomato sauce – recipe to follow
½ lb. grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1 package dried lasagna noodles
1 egg

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a mixing bowl, combine the ricotta, Provolone, Mozzarella, Romano, egg, milk, basil, and garlic. Mix well. Season with salt and pepper. To assemble, spread 2 ½ cups of the meat sauce on the bottom of a deep dish lasagna pan. Sprinkle ¼ of the grated cheese over the sauce. Cover the cheese with ¼ of the dried noodles. Spread ¼ of the cheese filling evenly over the noodles. Repeat the above process with the remaining ingredients, toping the lasagna with the remaining sauce. Place in oven and bake until bubbly and golden, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Remove from the oven and cool for 10 minutes before serving. Slice and serve.

Tomato Sauce

Ingredients

2 Tbsp. olive oil
⅓ lb. ground beef
⅓ lb. ground veal
⅓ lb. ground pork
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 cups finely chopped onions
½ cup finely chopped celery
½ cup finely chopped carrot
2 Tbsp. chopped garlic
2 (28 oz) cans of chopped tomatoes
1 small can tomato paste
4 cups beef stock
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
2 tsp. dried oregano
2 tsp. dried basil
Pinch of crushed red pepper
2 oz. Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

Instructions

In a large saucepan, over medium heat, add the oil. In a mixing bowl, combine the meat. Season with salt and pepper and mix well. When the oil is hot, add the meat and brown for 4 to 6 minutes. Add onions, celery, and carrots.

Season with salt and pepper. Cook for 4 to 5 minutes or until vegetables are soft. Add the garlic and tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper.

Continue to cook for 2 to 3 minutes. Whisk the tomato paste with the stock and add to the tomatoes. Add the thyme, bay leaves, oregano, basil, and red pepper flakes. Mix well. Bring the liquid to a boil, reduce the heat to medium and simmer for about 2 hours. Stir occasionally and add more liquid if needed. During the last 30 minutes of cooking, season again with salt and pepper, and stir in the cheese. Remove from heat and let sit for 15 minutes before serving.

Yield: about 1 ½ to 2 quarts

All I See Is Perfection ~ Guest Post by Jennifer

Andrew1 — Andrew just a few days ago, 2yrs and 4months

Hi everyone. I’m back again, writing for Full of Graces. I’ve wanted to write about this topic for a while now but haven’t been able to put my thoughts to paper. We have just put the boys to bed after an afternoon at a birthday party. Some of the older children at the party asked about that thing on Andrew’s chin. Jacob, my oldest, explained that it was a hemangioma and that it doesn’t hurt his little brother; he knows that kids usually are concerned that Andrew may have hurt himself. Nate, my husband, told the kids that it would be removed in two days. But that didn’t stop them from using words like “gross”, “disgusting”, and “ugly” to describe it. These were first grade kids. Jacob heard them and so did Andrew. I know they didn’t mean for their words to hurt but man, my mama heart is heavy tonight.

Andrew was born at 36 weeks and he did not have a hemangioma at birth. By the time he was released from the NICU we noticed a tiny mark on his chin, almost like a bruise, which we assumed was from the tape on his face that held various tubes in place during his hospital stay. But it never went away and instead started growing. We now know that hemangiomas are common amongst preemies.

Initially, we were told that the hemangioma would eventually lighten in color and begin to recede. Yet, it has not done so and after several visits with a pediatric dermatologist we were told that it had mushroomed with fatty tissue beneath the blood vessels; it would be unlikely for it to go away. The pediatric plastic surgeon we were referred to recommended removing the hemangioma sooner than later in order to allow the surgical scar to heal as much as possible before Andrew starts school. We have been praying about this hemangioma since Andrew was a newborn and we feel that putting him through surgery to remove it is the right choice.

Andrew3 — Andrew at one year old (Photo credit: Brianna Kiefer Photography)

Having a child with a hemangioma in a very visible place on his face has been an interesting experience. Overall, it has not been too bad. Little kids are curious and usually just want to know if Andrew has had a boo-boo or if it hurts him. Parents of children with hemangiomas have stopped me, usually at Disneyland, to share their child’s hemangioma story. They have always been positive interactions meant to encourage me in that it would go away eventually and I appreciate that. However, we’ve also had enough interactions where older children say something negative about my baby’s beautiful face. As much as I have hated those negative occasions, I also wish the positive experiences had not happened either. It’s not that I wish people would pretend the hemangioma doesn’t exist, I just wish it weren’t the first thing that people notice about Andrew. He was the sweetest, chunkiest baby and is now the most entertaining, happy little boy; there is so much more to him than the hemangioma on his chin.

Andrew can identify his hemangioma just like he identifies his eyes, nose, mouth, ears, etc. I wonder if he realizes that no one else has one. I will say this experience had been a good teaching opportunity even if it isn’t one that I asked for. Jacob and I have had several conversations about why people always notice Andrew’s hemangioma and sometimes aren’t nice about it. He and I have prayed for the hemangioma to go away and for those that have been unkind. Andrew doesn’t talk much but someday I know I will teach him about how to, and how not to, approach someone who is different. I know that many of my friends are having these conversations with their children too. If you haven’t talked to your child about using kind words, please do. The old adage “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” is simply not true. Words hurt the most.

Unfortunately kids can be mean and we don’t want Andrew to be hurt by other people’s words about it. So we are going ahead with plastic surgery on Tuesday, December 15^th. We’ve been told that the procedure will last 30-45minutes; Nate, my doctor husband, says that’s not long at all but I am sure those minutes will feel much longer. Andrew is expected to bounce back quickly because he is young but we have been warned that the scar may be very red for up to a year. That means it should be fading around when he starts pre-school. I am praying that it does fade by then but that if it doesn’t, that the children in his class are kind.

Please join me in praying for a successful surgery, quick recovery, and minimal scaring. Thank you.

Men

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Last Sunday, my dear, sweet, wonderful husband was putting up the Christmas lights outside.

Gabriel was helping him, which at the moment meant entertaining Annie who decided that she also wanted to “help”.

They had the wiggle car scooter out and were riding it down our sidewalk, which has a bit of an incline.

And my husband looked at them riding down the sidewalk and thought to himself “I’ll bet I can jump over them as they go by.”

…

It did not occur to him to warn Gabe.

…

So when all 6’5” of daddy came running at him, Gabe did what any sane child would do: he stopped cold.

Causing Daddy to hook a foot on his shoulder and land awkwardly on his knee. The “trick” knee, the one that has a tendency to “go out” every now and then. That one.

He didn’t tell me for an hour. He said because he knew my reaction was predictable.

Whatever that means.

We’ll know how badly his 43-year-old-but-I-still-think-I’m-20-year-old-knee is after an MRI on Tuesday.

Free Range Christmas Trees

“Let’s get a tree!” I said.

Shea looked at me warily. “Same place as last year?”

“No! For five bucks we can cut it down ourselves out in the woods. Just think of it, honey! A FREE RANGE Christmas tree!”

Saturday we were out the door by 9:15 am. Saw? Check. Permit? Check. Rope? Check.

Coat for Annie? Not so much. Although we didn’t figure that out until we pulled into the deserted, icy barely plowed campground at Fish Lake.

Twenty miles in was when I decided I would read the Bureau of Land Management rules for cutting down a tree in the wild. It’s pretty simple—you just have to keep the numbers 200 and 12 in your head: 200 feet from the nearest road. 200 feet from a lake. 200 feet from a campground. 200 feet from the river. No more than 12 feet from the nearest tree. No more than 12 feet high. And no more than a 12 inch stump left over.

All good.

But then there was this:

With forecasts for this winter predicting colder temperatures and above average precipitation, it’s as important as ever to prepare for the unexpected when looking for your holiday tree. Bring a handsaw or axe as well as winter clothing and safety equipment. Tire chains and a shovel are recommended, as is extra food, drinking water, blankets, a flashlight, first aid kit and survival gear. Tree cutting and travel may take longer than anticipated, so notify a friend or family member where you’re going, get an early start, and leave the woods well before dark.

We had two of those things. TWO. And this was before I knew that we forgot Annie’s coat.

Huh. But I wasn’t about to turn down the Morman Tabernacle Choir to spread fear and anxiety, so on we drove into the great white wilderness, ill-equipped but optimistic.

We found this:

IMAG0779

Gorgeous. It wasn’t too cold, right at freezing, so Annie wore Kate’s coat, Kate wore mine, I wore Shea’s and Shea sucked it up. We spent 45 minutes “searching” for a tree, which looked a lot like snowballs fights and snow angels and picture taking.

Then we got serious.

We discovered that a lot of free range trees are actually one sided, which works for us in this house because the tree goes against a wall. I liked the white pine trees—very Sundance catalog and since our house has a craftsman vibe, I knew we could make it work. Shea stood next to the tree we picked and stuck his hand up—the tree was probably right at 12 feet tall. We followed the directions with the stump, cut the tree down in two shakes and carried it back to the car.

We headed ten more miles down the road to Lake of the Woods resort, where we had a fabulous lunch at the grill and made reservations to camp in June.

Then we drove the 44 miles home with the tree. That’s it—44 miles. It’s still a small miracle to me that wild Christmas trees can be found that close to home.

This is what it looked like in the driveway.

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“Dang,” I said to Shea. “It looks bigger now.”

“Yeah.”

So I took the big shears and trimmed the tree back at least a foot around the bottom.

“How much room do we have at the bottom?” I asked.

“Sixty inches.”

“How much room at the top”

“Oh, the height is not the problem.”

“Well, let’s bring it in and then I can trim more if I need to.”

So before you see this picture there are a few things you need to understand in terms of perspective.

The black entertainment center is 8 feet tall.
The couch is a 5 full feet away from the wall and four feet away from the TV.

Ok, you ready?

IMAG0786

And clearly there’s not plenty of room at the top.

I laughed until tears ran down my face. Then I texted one of my Oregon natives and told her the tree grew four feet on the drive home. “Do you know how many times that happened to us growing up?!!” she texted back. “They do look smaller in the wild!”

We went out the next day and got a 9 footer from a lot. For comparison’s sake, here’s a side-by-side of the two trees.

On Saturday night I went to a mom’s night out. As I was recounting our successful-ish tree hunting story, one of the moms asked which road we took.

“We were going to take the 234, but we ended up taking the 140”.

The mom next to me snickered and rolled her eyes.

“What?” I poked her arm.

“THE 234??? THE 140??? You Californians and your “the”. It’s just 234 and 140.”

I rolled me eyes at her and one of the other moms, a fellow transplant said “Your California is showing”.

In more ways than one, my new friends. In more ways than one.

Hurricane Mama

Why are we changing the rules? Did something happen when I looked the other way? Why do things feel different? Are we ok?

This is what anxiety sisters do when the applecart is upset. We ask a lot of questions, rapid-fire. We wait a good 1.5 seconds for answers. When they don’t come, we know this is a sign of the apocalypse.

I’m going to give you a moment to send blessings on my husband. Especially since most anxiety sisters are of average size and turn into Category 3 hurricanes at the most.

Not me. I am six feet of Category 5 coming at you.

The last seven days have been stormy in my house.

I have a child in a new school through no fault of his own. Because he came from me, he also hates change. And now he is the new kid. Again. In the middle of the school year. Again. He doesn’t know where the pencils are. Again.

Plus, when you’ve been bullied repeatedly over a long period of time, you may come out of that with some anger. You may have a really short trigger when you think people are not listening to you. You may even feel guilty that all of this is somehow your fault.

Then, it was Thanksgiving. We do it small but still. There’s shopping and parties and 3 year olds who run fevers right before the whole world goes on vacation for four days.

To call the pediatrician or not call the pediatrician? That is the question that will spin a tropical storm mama into a Category 2.

Then on Friday after dinner my mom was crying into the phone. I think the number of times this has happened in my life is less than the fingers on one hand. My dad—who’d had surgery ten days before—was experiencing a complication that required another emergency surgery. They’d been up since 4 am, sitting at the ER since 10 and my dad was so hopped up on pain meds that he was barely awake as they rolled him away.

WEATHER BULLETIN: Hurricane Mama is now Category 5 with winds in excess of 200 mph and a 100% chance of precipitation. All humans living within the affected area are directed to take shelter immediately. And STAY there, for the love of God.

It was a dodgy 12 hours. I activated every prayer chain I know, and women all over the country called down the power of heaven to be with my family.

My dad came through surgery like a champ and is on the road to recovery. My mom got some sleep and her feet back under her. Gabriel came home from school with an invitation to a birthday party. Some might even say that things are looking up.

Hurricane Mama is not so sure. Or maybe it’s that the stress of it all seems to linger. Why these things seem to come in clumps, I’ll never understand. I am grateful for the calm after the storm, I truly am. I revel in it.

But it takes me a minute to get there.

If you have an anxiety sister in your life, can I make a plea on her behalf? This is a tough time of year. Chances are, she’s had it planned out in her head for months, but life happens, like last week. She’s going to need a minute to reorder it in her head and her heart, and there may be wind and rain before she does.

Tell the kids to take shelter, because we don’t need to add guilt to the storm. Then help her by doing something, by taking something off her list. The fastest way to calm the storm is by controlling the things that are easy to control. I can’t explain why, but it makes the big, out of our control things seem so much easier to bear when the little things are going right.

It will pass and she will be your uber-competent, joyful wife-daughter-sister-friend again before you know it

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. (1 Peter 5:10)

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