Really, Truly, Finally Judie's Lasagna

 

Okay, to recap: This is Judie.  We lived across the hall on the fourth floor of a stairwell housing building on an airbase in Germany...that no longer exists.  With her three resident boys and my four, we quickly became fast friends.  The Wonder Hub and I had only been married for six months when we moved in, and I had exactly six months of cooking experience under my belt.  She took pity on my poor, malnourished family and gathered me under her wing.  Over the years our families shared many a meal, most of them cooked by Judie and some of them cooked by me.  Back in those days, when Judie's family came to our house to eat they had to cross the threshold with their own silverware in hand.  It was a bittersweet day when I finally purchased a full set and could comfortably feed more than my family of five.  (Judie was with me when I ordered it, and she was with me on the day we went back to pick it up and I declared I hated it more than any silverware on this earth and then went home with something completely different.)

On special occasions, Judie made her famous lasagna and a salad the Monkey still talks about today.  In one of many displays of mercy on my soul, Judie gave me the recipe when I was faced with hosting a meal for some Very Important Person.  I have made it a hundred thousand times since then, and each time it is called reverently by its proper name.  Judie has given me permission to share it with you, but I do hereby make you promise to always and forever call it by its proper name.  Friends, I give you:

Judie's Lasagna

  It starts like this, with one pound of sweet Italian sausage, cooked low and slow, as they say.

 

You cook it so low, and so slow(ly) that you would be wise to keep a snack handy.  Trust me on this.

When your meat is thoroughly cooked, drain the fat and add to it:

One clove (or two, or three) minced garlic

One 28oz can tomatoes (I have used whole and crushed, with equally happy results.)

One tablespoon whole basil (Okay, so I don't really know what whole basil is, but that's what Judie's recipe says.  I use whatever basil I happen to have.)

Two six ounce cans tomato paste

While that continues cooking, low and slow, boil some water and cook the lasagna noodles according to package directions.  Then mix together in a separate bowl:

Three cups cottage cheese

Two eggs

1/2 cup grated Parmesan or Romano cheese (Use the good stuff.  Trust me.)

Two tablespoons parsley

1/2 teaspoon pepper, and

Set aside one pound grated Mozzarella cheese.  Don't set it so far aside that you forget about it.  Trust me.

When your noodles are cooked and drained, start by layering them in a greased 9x13 pan. Listen carefully, because this is crucial: layer them two deep.  In the picture above, there are ten noodles.  

Trust me.

(Also: I never, ever use all the noodles in the package.)

Next, you will use exactly half of the cheese mixture to cover the noodles.

Then, use exactly half the shredded Mozzarella to cover the cheese mixture...which I did not do.  In all the hundred thousand times I have made Judie's Lasagna, I have never forgotten the Mozz layer.  Until now.  Go figure.

Then you will cover your Mozzarella with exactly half of the meat mixture, which you will have used all your willpower to keep from eating straight out of the pan with a spoon.

Then you'll do it all again.

Double-layer noodles.

Second half of cheese mixture.

Second half Mozz.  (Eye roll from me.)

Second half of sauce.  

If I had done this correctly, there would be just barely enough room in the pan for the second half of the sauce.  See that little lip there?  That was the first clue that I had messed it up.  My second clue was the one pound bag of shredded Mozzarella staring at me from where I had set it too far aside.

Whatever.  These things happen.  When they do, you roll with it.  You improvise.  My gut told me that one pound of Mozz on the top of this lasagna would congeal into a one pound brick of Mozz on the top of this lasagna, so I eyeballed it and used less than half.

I sprinkled it on after Judie's Lasagna had baked at 350 for 30 minutes (45 if you've made it ahead and then pulled it out of the fridge) and put it back in the oven for another five.  When I took it out, it looked like this.

It made me sad.

It made me mad.

Then I got over it and dug in.

So there you have it!  Judie's Lasagna.  Please report back to me after you make it for your Very Important People.