For my first few years as a grown up, I made frozen or "easy" lasagna. It was lasagna, I guess, but it always left me disappointed. I finally asked my mom for her recipe, because her lasagna is the best. The recipe isn't hard to follow, and lasagna's really not that hard to make, but I continued to shy away from it. For some reason I had in my head that it's a labor-intensive undertaking of mammoth proportions.
In the last few years, I've made mom's recipe more often. Although it makes a huge mess in my kitchen, it's really not as big of a project as I'd always thought. If a normal person makes it, not constantly stopping to mediate fights or doing it one-handed with a babe on the hip, it could be put together in 45 minutes or less.
I made it for supper last night and, man, was it worth the work and mess. Even the shredded mozzarella the baby toddler dumped all over the floor: worth it.
Lasagna is my love language, I'm pretty sure. Mine never tastes exactly like mom's, but isn't everything better when your mom makes it? One kid refused to even try it, which I totally deserve after being a picky child. After supper I realized him not having any leaves more leftovers for us for lunch. Winning!