The Tragic Lasagna
The pasta layers were thick and dry at the edges, not at all the silky tender sheets I’d expected. The bolognaise sauce was dry and severely lacking in tomato flavor. The béchamel sauce, which I’d hoped would be the star of the dish turned out bland and tasted thoroughly of flour. If flour could be made into a cream-like consistency, it would taste like my hideous béchamel sauce. Even the fresh parsley was overpowering, its herbal airiness aggressively punching through the awkward tag-team combo of Bland Bechamel and the Bolognaise from Hell. To cleanse my mouth of the aftertaste of what could very well be the most tragically unappetizing lasagna in the southern hemisphere, I rushed to the pantry, a humongous floor-to-ceiling dietary first-aid kit, and got myself a bar of chocolate I saved for emergency situations such as this one. My cooking skills may be questionable, but I can take comfort in the fact that, at least for now, my shopping skills remain intact.