A Floor You Could Eat Off Of

A few weeks ago I decided I wanted lasagna. Last week I picked-up an industrial sized container of cottage cheese from Costco to make my dream a reality. Yesterday I decided that tonight would be the night.

Have you heard of the Pioneer Woman? Among other things, she comes up with sinfully delicious recipes. When Phoebe was born a friend brought us lasagna she had made using Pioneer Woman's recipe. It was incredible. It's actually called The Best Lasagna. Ever. I haven't made any other lasagna recipe since.

I began the process this morning during breakfast. I defrosted meat, grated cheese, located ingredients. The task continued after Peter went to school and Phoebe was down for her nap. While I was cooking I ironed (yes, I'm a little shocked too), made a batch of bread, cleaned the kitchen, and chatted with the repairman that put a new faucet in our kitchen sink.

By the time I finished building the lasagna I felt wildly productive. I covered the 9x13 glass pan in aluminum foil and carried it to the fridge. I opened the door to slide the meal in.

And then I dropped it.

The good news is that Pyrex doesn't break so easily and the pan remained in one piece.

The bad news is that the lasagna did not.

I included my feet to show the size of the spill.

Due to the slippery nature of the noodles, we lost the majority of the top layer, almost like the upper tier decided to jump right off. I stood in the cold of the open fridge door staring at my day's work, on the floor. I plopped myself down to see what could be salvaged. I was able to scoop unscathed cheesy-meat off of lasagna noodles that had sacrificed themselves. The still-there repairman said something that was meant to be a positive spin on the fiasco, but I have no real idea what he was talking about.

This is after I scooped up the still-edible stuff, which means this is everything I threw away.

I do have a sense of humor about the whole thing. True, I had a moment when the dish first slipped from my grasp and crashed to the ground when I thought I might cry, but mostly I handled it well. I'm glad that I didn't follow through with the urge I had had earlier to invite friends over for dinner.

"Hi, we're so glad you're here. Have some floor-casserole!"

It still tasted good.