Zucchini lasagna.

It's hard to know where to start when I've been absent for a little while. I was drained and exhausted after two weeks in the ICU, and I'm only now starting to feel appropriately distanced from all that.

Then there was this little two-week vacation in Southern Utah that did so much to help me forget all the stress and responsibilities of my job and to help me remember all the responsibilities I love, like an all-of-a-sudden-speaking-sentences 2-year-old.

I will save further commentary on our trip for the moment, as today I just want to talk about food. I've had my fair share of stress over the past few months, and I can't think of anything that relieves stress for me more than making food. When I'm chopping and slicing, I sometimes mull over a problem without meaning to, or come to terms with something I'm still getting used to, but mostly, gloriously, I think about nothing. For me, cooking is an inherently solitary endeavor, but at the same time it always amazes me how it can bring people together. I was reading The Husband's Secret over my vacation, and I loved this line:

She always pretended to herself that she didn't let Lauren help because she was trying to be the perfect mother-in-law, but really, when you didn't let a woman help, it was a way of keeping her at a distance, of letting her know that she wasn't family, of saying I don't like you enough to let you into my kitchen.

Let me go on to say that, fortunately, my experience has been the opposite of the above. My mother-in-law is a truly amazing cook, and she has always welcomed me into her kitchen. But I loved the description of the act of letting someone help in the kitchen - what it means about a level of friendship and closeness. It occurred to me that some of my favorite moments getting to know my husband's family have been in my mother-in-law's kitchen. I still remember feeling like a real aunt for the first time when I was pregnant with my son and brought gingerbread dough to my mother-in-law's house for Christmas to bake with my two nieces and nephew. I knew the dough would probably taste horrible (it did), but I forged ahead and was amazed by their enthusiasm for decorating.

These days, my favorite helper in the kitchen doesn't so much help as interfere, but in the cutest way possible. This lasagna is one of Charlie's favorite dishes to eat, and he's not against helping to make it either because it involves his favorite activity: watching ingredients in a pot "cookeen." I'll often be at the cutting board or over the stove top and hear, "I waa waaach." Once he's up on the ladder or in my arms, he'll point at the pot to make sure I know what's what, "Cookeen Mama."

This is a family recipe, but I still have no idea where it came from originally as I'm pretty sure I don't have any Italian or Italian-American blood in me. I know the ingredient list might appear long at first glance, but I would bet that most of these items are probably in your pantry right now. And the final result - the cheesy, rich, tomatoey goodness that will come out of your oven is worth every second of slicing and layering. Also, if you leave out the meat, it makes a perfect vegetarian entree, although I personally like the richness of a meat sauce. I've been waiting for the perfect time of year to share this recipe, and hopefully I didn't miss my window! I hope zucchini are still delicious and plentiful near you and that the nights are getting just chilly enough for you to want to (finally) turn on your oven and make dinner.

Zucchini Lasagna
A Lafler family recipe

4 large or 5-6 smaller zucchini
2 tbsp olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 onion, chopped
1/2 lb ground beef
1 (1 lb) can whole peeled San Marzano tomatoes
1 (6 oz) can tomato paste
4 oz sliced cremini mushrooms
3/4 cup red wine
1 1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/4 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
8 oz whole milk mozzarella, coarsely grated
8 oz ricotta
1/2 cup Parmesan, finely grated

Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. When shimmering, add onion and garlic and cook, stirring, until tender, about 3-4 minutes. Add ground beef and cook until brown, breaking it up as much as possible with a wooden spoon. Once browned, open can of whole tomatoes and drain liquid into the pan. With a clean hand reach in the can and crush tomatoes into small chunks (this is a trick I learned from Lidia Bastianich which ensures that you always get enough large tomato chunks), and then add to the pan. Add tomato paste, sliced mushrooms, wine, and additional spices, salt and pepper. Cook on low heat, uncovered for 1 hour, stirring (very) occasionally.

Meanwhile, oil a 13" x 9" casserole dish with olive oil. Using a mandolin, slice zucchini lengthwise into 1/8 inch slices or thinner as desired. Once sauce has simmered, layer slices of zucchini so that the longest portion of each zucchini slice is parallel with longer side of the casserole dish and each slice is overlapping about two-thirds with the one next to it.

Don't worry too much if the edges are jagged or there are areas not completely covered. Next drop spoonfuls of ricotta over the zucchini, using about 1/3 of the cheese, and sprinkle with about 1/3 of the mozzarella cheese. Top this with about 1/3 of the meat sauce. Repeat these layers two more times and then top the final layer of sauce with grated Parmesan. Bake at 350 degrees for 45-60 minutes. Serves 4-6 adults.