Lasagne

As a child, I don’t think I was ever so happy as when I was eating buttered elbow macaroni. As an adult, I still find pasta to be a great comfort to eat. It is infinitely variable and goes with just about anything. When I see orecchiette with sausage and broccolini or broccoli rabe on a menu, I don’t think I’ve ever not ordered it. Penne baked with garlic and olive oil and mozzarella, discovered in New Haven visiting a girlfriend in college in 1981, remains a private and personal joy. And I grew up eating Mom’s spaghetti with meat sauce (we wouldn’t call it Bolognese until the 1990s), which we were all convinced was the best meat sauce on the planet. Her “secret” was starting the sauce with a few pieces of cut-up bacon, plenty of red wine, and—wait for it—Open Pit barbecue sauce.