(Reading the following quote with a Tony-Shalhoub-Italian accent is both more effective & entertaining.)
“You will love this place. Bologna is... is sad, a little. The city is old. No, old is nice... but is dark. But the food, anyway, oh! They make there a dish called, listen, Lah-sahn-nya... boh-loh-NYEH-zeh... Lasagne Bolognese -- you can’t believe how good this is. And when my uncle, in Rome, at his restaurant, when he make this... Uuuugh! You eat and then you go and... uuuuugh! You kill yourself! You have to kill yourself. After you eat this, you can’t live!”
Nary a more enthusiastic description of Lasagne Bolognese was ever spoken. Layers of hand-rolled pasta encasing rich, meaty ragù, creamy, nutmegged béchamel, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and perfumed basil leaves. Lasagne Bolognese is pure love in a Pyrex dish. It’s poetic, really. But, obviously, don’t “kill yourself” -- even if the motivation is simply to stick around for leftovers.
