In the ongoing saga of my kitchen and learning to cook, Steven and I "made Italy*" last night in the form of lasagna.
Lest you think we took the easy route, Martha Stewart and her damn Blueprint magazine (<3) taunted me into making my own meat sauce. Steven was my hero in using his muscles to break up pieces of the tomato, so I wouldn't have to deal with a chunky sauce; however, our one mistake was chilling on the balcony and admiring the trees. When he popped his head back in to check on the sauce, we discovered it had started to burn. Oops! A little bit of water and spicing (and tasting) and we were back on proper footing. Layer upon layer upon layer, and it was done. I don't know about Steven, but I felt smidge of pride when we pulled it out of the oven, and it looked all golden and yummy. One thing I've figured out about cooking is that I enjoy it a lot more when I'm cooking for and with people. The social aspect of food bringing people together is nice ancillary benefit. *according to Allie