The Curse of the Lasagna

Occurred October 11th, 2008. Sometime after dark....

I suppose the title of this should be, "The Curse of the 2 Pan Lasagna." You laugh, but I promise you this is no joke. Ok fine its pretty funny. Not for my Mom, but for the rest of us the irony is impossible to ignore.

First, we have to back up a little.

In 1992, when my brother was still a boyscout and we lived in Sussex, it was the yearly sledding - potluck dinner family outing thingy. So the night before or the morning of (can't remember which) my Mom started making her famous lasagna. At the time all I could do was turn up my nose because, well because I was 8 years old and I thought most things were gross. Annnyway, as you may or may not know, the key to a really good lasagna is time. The longer and slower you cook it the better it tastes (and less likely to fall apart) because it slowly lets all the flavors mesh.

We lived very close to the hill where the sledding was taking place so my Mom left the 2 pans of lasagna in the oven on warm and we went to go sledding. Well a few hours and lots of cold toes later my Mom decided to give in and hop on the snow tube. Bad idea. I watched as the tube went spinning out of control (as most snow tubes do) and then with my Mother still atop it SLAMMED into a light pole at the bottom of the hill. The rest was a blur I guess. I ran down there well I think I did and my was not unconscious. Being 8 years old Im pretty sure I thought she was dead. Ambulance came, took her away. Details after that are blurry. Dad came and took us to the hospital I guess and then we went to stay with him as she was going to be in the hospital for awhile with a severely broken arm shoulder stuff.

Later that night, at my Dad's house, we decided it would be foolish to let the lasagna go to waste so we all ate it for dinner. By far the BEST lasagna I ever had. Which said a lot considering I had previously no desire to stick my little fork anywhere near it.

So there was Chapter 1 of the Curse - before it became a curse of course because you can't call something a curse if it only happens once.



Fall of 2008:
My Mom's church is right across the street from where I live and she was there preparing to make 2 pans of lasagna. One for brunch Sunday at church and one for my brother, me and herself. 2 pans. Of Lasagna. Being Made. I decided to stop by say hello and nose around. Still in the lasagna making process I bid her farewell because it was Mamma Mia night and dinner at Riviera Maya with 3 very good lady friends.

Leaving dinner my phone rings. Its my brother. I'm sure you can see where this is going. Or maybe not.

"You're not going to believe who's on the way to the hospital now!" say my brother.
Of course freak out and think of my grandfather (well because ironically enough my father was already in the hospital).
"What? Who??"
"Mom. I think she broke her foot." he laughs.

I'm like why the hell are you laughing... and he's like, um remember what Mom was doing today. The Lasagna!

I ask him where she is and he says at church still. Making lasagna. Well it was done, just in the oven. Like last time.

She was really fine. Slightly fractured her foot. She took a step down the stairs, thought she was at the bottom and was not and took a long step two steps away from the bottom. Broken foot.

Eventually we did eat the lasagna and it was delicious once again. Not that I wish my mother any ill will, but the lasagna may be worth a small fracture. Regardless, I think she should stay away from the 2 pan lasagna for awhile.

I suppose this story isnt as funny or riveting as it seemed in my head, but to my brother, mother, father and I it was downright ridiculous.

That's all for now. Gotta run - I'm craving pasta all of the sudden.....