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DE CONSTRUC T LASAGNE


Sloppy or sturdy? Meaty or veggie? Cheesy or cheese-free? Lasagne has an official definition, but there are countless variations across Italy and beyond


WORDS: SAR AH BARREL L . PHOTOGR APHS: JAMIE ORL ANDO SMI TH FOOD ST Y L I S T: NATAL IE THOMSON


To understand the nature of lasagne, ask not what it is or how it’s made but who’s eating it. Like many world-wandering dishes, lasagne is not so much a recipe as a reflection of human taste, in all its wild variety. Ancient Greece can lay some claim to being its birthplace, with laganon. This is said by some to have been the first pasta — sheets of dough cut into strips — from which the Romans likely took the name for their lagane, the basis for lasagne patina. Little is known about this trailblazing dish, except that it called for the inclusion of sow’s belly and fish. Since then, however, it’s travelled the globe, evolving and acquiring innumerable iterations. Lasagne is codified as a classic of Bolognese


cuisine by the Accademia Italiana della Cucina (an organisation dedicated to preserving Italy’s culinary heritage). It defines it as spinach egg pasta layered with ragu and bechamel. Yet, there are plenty of variations to be found, and the dish’s multifarious nature is evident by the fact that entire cookbooks have been dedicated to it. Lasagna, A Baked Pasta Cookbook, by Anna Hezel and The Editors of Taste, offers 128 pages of recipe inspiration, as well as the revelation that the common Americanism ‘lasagna’ is the word for a single


sheet of pasta; ‘lasagne’ is the correct name of the dish, the final ‘e’ indicating the plurality of pasta layers. Within what’s considered lasagne’s native


region, Emilia-Romagna, the classic Bologna ragu comes in subtly different forms, depending on where you eat it. Veal and offal may be added to the varying quantities of beef and fatty pork used to make the hand-cut mince. This is then sauted, sweated or braised in some form of fat (not always olive oil), along with a soffritto of finely chopped onion, celery and carrot that should melt to an indistinguishable base. It’s essential that the ragu is cooked for a


minimum of two hours; another thing purists insist on is that garlic and herbs need not apply (apart from a touch of nutmeg in the bechamel). Canned tomatoes are banished in favour of a smidge of tomato purée; the liquid element comes from a touch of meat broth, wine or milk. And mozzarella doesn’t get a look in. In fact, melted cheese — beloved of pasta bakes worldwide — is eschewed in favour of bechamel, and a sprinkling of Parmigiano-Reggiano on top — a nod to Emilia-Romagna’s finest formaggio. But lasagne isn’t always made with such purist zeal; its ubiquity means it’s often


made badly. So badly, in fact, that here in the UK many Italians and Italophile Brits won’t touch the stuff. Italian chef Giorgio Locatelli bemoaned the British version as being closer to sloppy shepherd’s pie, while the ‘bad lasagne years’ is what Guardian food writer Rachel Roddy called the time she endured growing up in England before moving to Rome. This era of stodgy school dinners and 1980s ready meals taking lasagne’s name in vain almost wrote the dish off for many. In truth, lasagne in the UK is still often made with overcooked pasta, blotchy bechamel and a runny ragu that’s at best a distant relative of the Bolognese version. And that’s nothing compared to the more heinous crimes committed against lasagne, including Iceland’s chicken tikka version (now discontinued) and Tesco’s lasagne sandwich. Often seen as somewhat old-fashioned,


classic lasagne is shunned by many of the UK’s smarter contemporary Italian restaurants and is more likely to be found on the menus of a Chianti-wielding neighbourhood trattoria, served alongside fried mozzarella balls. Where the dish has endured is on the shelves of the supermarket. And it may come as a revelation to devotees of the ready-meal varieties


NATIONALGEOGRAPHIC.CO.UK/FOOD-TRAVEL 71


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