Lasagna Quotes

“I made lasagna for dinner," Tamsyn called out. "That work for you?"

He continued to look at her, as if he'd drink her up with his eyes. "Anything is fine."

"Maybe I shouldn't waste my lasagna on you, then." Tamsyn grabbed a container from the cooling unit. "How about some cardboard instead?"

Brenna found herself amused in spite of the blood that continued to scent the air and the taut expectation that stretched between her and Judd. Lips twitching, she waited for his response.

"Cardboard has no nutritional value." Utterly toneless. "Lasagna would be a better choice.”
― Nalini Singh, Caressed by Ice

“I make 'Buela's recipe for sofrito that I'll use to season the ground beef. Softening the garlic and onions, adding tomato paste. This is the first step for most traditional dishes, the flavoring that gives a rich taste for everything from beans to stew. Then I brown meat and make a homemade sauce from fresh tomatoes. I grate fine shreds of mozzarella cheese and boil sheets of pasta. While the oven is preheating, I slowly layer my guilt, my hope, and a hundred dreams. I don't know if it means anything at all, but 'Buela has always said my hands are magical, and I use them now to put all my feelings into the pan.”
― Elizabeth Acevedo, With the Fire on High

“We were not restrained in our chairs, but there were so many guns on us that if I scratched my nose, the shooting aftermath would look like somebody had just spilled a huge lasagna here.”
― David Wong, This Book Is Full of Spiders

“I once saw a moat bicycling around a castle. It was being chased by a soggy giraffe that had a tornado for a neck. I was on the overlooking grassy hill, selling lasagna-free duck soup by the slice to tourists from Nebraska.”
― Jarod Kintz, Music is fluid, and my saxophone overflows when my ducks slosh in the sounds I make in elevators.

“It is not a dumb idea, Jules. I want you to bake your lasagna dish. I want to taste your lasagna dish and mostly I want to help you see what I see in you.”
― Clotilde Martinez, Diamond Girl Lost

“Angelina, I adore you...," crooned Louis. Then the New Orleans Gang picked up the beat and King Louis sang, "I eat antipasto twice, just because she is so nice, Angelina..."
Fresh pasta time. Angelina cracked three eggs into the center of a mound of 00 flour, in time to the music, and began teasing the flour into the sticky center. With a hand-cranked pasta maker, she rolled out the dough into long, silky-thin sheets, laid them out until they covered the entire table, then used a 'mezza luna' to carefully slice wide strips of pasta for a new dish she wanted to try that she called Lasagna Provencal, a combination of Italian and French cheeses, Roma and sun-dried tomatoes, Herbes de Provence, and fresh basil. It was a recipe for which she had very high hopes.
Angelina started assembling her lasagna. She mixed creamy Neufchatel, ricotta, and a sharp, grated Parmigiano-Reggiano in with a whole egg to bind it together. She layered fresh pasta sheets in a lasagna dish, coated them with the cheesy mixture, ripped in some fresh basil and oregano and sun-dried tomatoes. She worked quickly, but with iron concentration.
"I'm-a just a gigolo, everywhere I go...," sang King Louie.
For the second layer, she used more pasta topped with Gruyere and herbed Boursin cheese. The third layer was the same as the first. For the fourth layer, she used the rest of the Boursin and dollops of creme fraiche, then ladled the thick, rich tomato sauce from the stove on top and finished it with a sprinkling of shredded Gruyere. She set it aside for baking later and felt a flush of craftswomanly pride in the way it had all come together.”
― Brian O'Reilly, Angelina's Bachelors

“The lasagna filled a huge roasting pan, covered in thick browned cheese that was crispy in the corners.
"Get me a corner piece, and I'll owe you one," Sanna whispered to Isaac, who sat closer to the pan.
"I'll hold you to that." He scooped the darkest corner onto her plate with a wink that caused Sanna's heart to skip. She wished she could come up with a pithy response, but instead she turned her attention to the food, unable to find her words.
The garlic bread was made from a local bakery's signature item, the giant Corsica loaf. It was slathered in sesame seeds and baked in olive oil so the bottom was crispy yet dripping. Mrs. Dibble had carved huge slices, coated each with garlic butter, then warmed it until the butter soaked in. The salad rounded it out, something light to balance all the heavy food so you could keep nibbling on lettuce to stretch the time at the table.
"Sanna, why don't you pull out a few bottles of cider for dinner?" Einars said.
Glad for distraction, Sanna brought out three large bottles she had in the fridge, all from the same batch- toasty brown. Not the most appetizing color, but it was the best match to go with a dinner like this one. It was a nearly still, unfiltered scrumpy style that was layered and complex, but not sweet and not dry. It wasn't acidic, so it didn't compete with the tomato sauce, and the subtle apple notes didn't confuse the palate with too many conflicting flavors. It was refreshing and smooth, a dark amber in color with bits of sediment floating around. She poured it into stemless glasses for each of the adults and enjoyed how the evening light got trapped, making the liquid glow when she held it up in a beam of evening summer sunlight.”
― Amy E. Reichert, The Simplicity of Cider

“Thursday night is pasta night," I say. "I left you guys a lasagna Bolognese, garlic knots, and roasted broccolini. Ian is going to make the Caesar salad table side." Thursday is the day I come in only to train Ian, so on Wednesdays I always leave something for an easy pasta night. Either a baked dish, or a sauce and parboiled pasta for easy finishing, some prepped salad stuff, and a simple dessert.
"Awesome. Does the lasagna have the chunks of sausage in it?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "Robert Adam Farber, would I leave you a lasagnawithoutchunks of sausage in it? "I say with fake insult in my voice.
"No, El, you totally have my back on all things meat. What's for dessert?"
"Lemon olive oil cake with homemade vanilla bean gelato.”
― Stacey Ballis, How to Change a Life

“I got up from the table and stepped to the cabinet above Mom's mixer, absently brushing off a layer of dust as I reached up. I found the jar I needed, musing that it was probably years old and tasteless---but still worth a try.
"What are you doing?"
"Hang on a sec." I clenched the jar in my fist and shook the spice into my hand, pinching a bit across his lasagna.
"What's that?"
"Trust me, it's just what it needs---a touch of earth and sweet to temper the tomato's bite. With fresh tomatoes you need less as summer approaches and they develop their own sugars. Taste it."
He took a bite. "It's fantastic. What'd you add?"
"Cinnamon." He didn't recognize it?
"Amazing. I'll have to tell Mary."
"Tell her a touch of milk tempers the acidity as well."
"Interesting.”
― Katherine Reay, Lizzy and Jane