The last of the season's tomatoes and zucchini found their way into this Greek-ish take on lasagna, a layered, cheesed and baked dish that means many things to many people.
I grew up with Catholic lasagna -- the no-nonsense ilk comprised of ground beef, pasta, ricotta, red sauce and mozzarella. Ruddy-faced moms served it with iceberg salad and garlic-powder bread in our brightly lit church basement. In these endeavors to raise funds for church construction or athletic equipment, the lasagna was fine, but it certainly wasn't the point.
As a kid I also associated this type of casserole with hospital visits and funerals...a dish that earnest volunteers delivered to the family at home to provide comfort. So, despite all these nice intentions, I didn't exactly crave the stuff.
That all changed in the fall of 6th grade, when I visited my friend Tonya Rulli's Greek Orthodox church festival. She and I made our way that night through a crowded kitchen to ask her mom for money, and I'll never forget the smells: fresh dill, lamb, olive oil, garlic, cinnamon, and a heavy dose of Liz Claiborne perfume.
These Greek moms were clearly different -- more glamorous -- and I studied their long nails, gold jewelry, meticulous make-up, and colored and coiffed hair. Then Tonya and I ate pastitsio, which she described as the Greek Orthodox version of Catholic lasagna. It was creamier, far more flavorful, and it made me want to convert.
My Greek-ish lasagna is not exactly pastitsio, which uses tubular penne-like noodles, and typically has just three distinct layers -- one of seasoned meat, one of pasta, and one of baked custard or bechamel sauce. But I'm inspired by its flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg and cream.
Not following a recipe, I listened strictly to pregnancy cravings. First a pound of ground beef, browned with diced white onion and cinnamon to taste. In another pan, some fresh garlic, zucchini and tomatoes, sauteed in olive oil; to these I added a fairly simple but good quality bottled pasta sauce, then minced fresh dill, then crumbled feta cheese until the sauce looked creamy. Next came the bechamel sauce, a standard recipe to which I added cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg to taste.
I brushed a square pan with olive oil and layered: Seasoned meat, then vegetables with pasta sauce, then no-boil lasagna noodles. All this again, and again, and then a thick layer of bechamel sauce. I covered it with shredded mozzarella and baked it at 375 F. until bubbly, about 45 minutes. It then sat under the broiler for a few minutes to brown on top.
Great Zeus, it was tasty.
I do love a good pastitsio... never having had it made by a Greek yaya though.
ReplyDeletethis made me want to run into the kitchen and whip up a pan. where was my first pastitsio? hmmmm, must try to remember...
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