Consider me the human version of Garfield. Like the famous, lazy cartoon cat, I have an undying love for layers of pasta, by which I mean lasagne.
When there’s a decent slab of lasagne, I don’t discriminate. Six, 10 or 12 layers of pasta, meat, oozing cheeses, sauces and béchamel sauce. Whatever the method or mix, I don’t care for the finer details as long as it tastes good, particularly if my mother or grandmother makes it.
See more: My nonna’s lasagne is a labour of love