Love is a Lasagne

Whenever I make a lasagne, I think of Autofix. I told him about how mine always turn out a bit too watery, and he said that whenever his mum makes one, and it turns out a bit watery, his dad knows it's bad, he knows it's bad, his sister knows it's bad, and his mum knows it's bad. They'll all be at the dinner table, with that knowledge, but they'll eat it anyway. Without complaint. So yeah, whenever I make a lasagne, I think of Autofix's disappointed face. Him shaking his head at me, thinking, "This isn't how Italians eat."

But anyway, I made a lasagne yesterday, and I messed it up pretty badly. On the plus side, I made my own pasta, because I hate how the dried lasagna sheets never quite fit the baking dish, so I made my own so that it would be the right size! On the minus side, what I thought was vegetable stock was actually frozen coffee, leftover from when I made ice-cream. I thought my sense of smell was just off due to hayfever, but nope, it actually wasn't vegetable stock. Yep, there's coffee in my lasagne. And the celery isn't quite cooked all the way through.

MrFodder said he'll eat it anyway.

I felt such a strong burst of affection. You have to understand, MrFodder has to eat a lot of failed dishes. He calls them "adventures". Sometimes even he can't stomach it, and it has to go in the bin, but he always puts in an honest effort.

Let's be real, lasagne isn't some super fancy dish. It's pretty unlikely that someone is going to go to a 5-star restaurant and order it. It doesn't look like much, but it's delicious, easy-to-make (well, it's easy to make something edible, at least), and it feels pretty damn good to dig into a slice of lasagne after a long day at work. It's a hearty comfort food.

For me, that's what I want from a partner. The Hollywood-style grand gestures aren't what help a relationship last, it's the person that's there for you at the end of a long day. You don't have to dress up for them every day, you don't have to write them poems or love letters, or songs all the time, or bring them extravagant gifts. After the honeymoon period has worn off, they'll probably look like goopy layers of pasta slotted between layers of meat and cheese, but you don't care, because the sight of them is a comfort to you.

Love is when you know your partner has messed up, and accidentally poured coffee into something that shouldn't have coffee in it, but you know they know they messed up, so you don't feel the need to make them feel bad about it.

Love has different layers, and on their own, they're not super spectacular, but they each bring something to the table. (Although I'm a weirdo who loves plain pasta, so maybe it's just me.)

I'm sorry, I didn't intend to make a brag post, but I was just feeling pretty grateful for MrFodder, and I probably don't show it as often as I should.

(As a side note, you couldn't really taste the coffee in the lasagne, so it all worked out, though I might be a bit more hyper than normal.)