{"id":13547,"date":"2013-04-04T12:34:38","date_gmt":"2013-04-04T17:34:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/crankymouse.com\/?p=13547"},"modified":"2013-04-04T13:06:21","modified_gmt":"2013-04-04T18:06:21","slug":"spinach-ricotta-lasagna-made-by-my-kids","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/crankymouse.com\/index.php\/2013\/04\/04\/spinach-ricotta-lasagna-made-by-my-kids\/","title":{"rendered":"Spinach Ricotta Lasagna Made by My Kids"},"content":{"rendered":"

In which we turn our homemade ricotta into a spinach-and-ricotta-filled lasagna with ground beef and a homemade tomato sauce. The recipe and method of which was created and carried out by the four kids in our family with some help from their mom.<\/em>
\n\"Spinach<\/a>
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“A light exists in spring
\nNot present on the year
\nAt any other period.”<\/em>
\n-Emily Dickinson
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The beginning of spring marked more than just the vernal equinox in our house. New schedules are passed out during homeroom, and a new trimester calls for a fresh notebook full of warmly-scented pages and a crisp new folder, its edges not yet rounded and rubbed soft by daily use. Nightly swim practice has given way to exploring the leftover mountains of snow after school, clad in long-sleeved thermals, probing at the still frozen gardens with sticks, and waiting patiently for spring to hurry up and burst forth from the dirt.
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Small hands are called to the kitchen. Scrubbed under a warm flow of water, rinsing the bits of mud from their pink skin with clear soap, the wafts of heady wet mud being replaced in the space with the crisp essence of ripe grapefruit that will soon be gone from the supermarket stands. A recipe is laid out, the steps divided. A meal is made.
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\nThere is something to this relinquished responsibility and turning over the reins to the kids. I stand back and watch and give direction only when necessary, allowing them to call the shots and finish the tasks. As the meat is browned, eggs are cracked and beaten, sauce is stirred, and slowly the layers become parts of a whole as an ownership over the outcome grows.
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When the kitchen timer gives a chirping beep, the kids gather to see how dinner turned out, oohing and ahhing over the bubbling layers of sauce and pasta. Plates are set out, napkins folded under the silverware. Glasses are poured full to the brim, the wet liquid kissing the lip.
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Each child recounts to their dad the part of the whole they touched, from the bottom up. From oldest to youngest they all had a hand in feeding us, and no part was more significant or important than another.
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\nThe air here still has a bit of a bite when the wind picks up, and by nightfall the coats come out again. Mixing a bit of spring spinach within a dish of warm, comforting lasagna seems only right. As the blustery winds whips outside, the kids head in with cold fingers and red little noses and rosy pink cheeks to the room-encompassing aroma of the slightly acerbic tomatoes mixing with creamy cheese and soft pasta layers as it bubbles away in the oven.
\n\"Spinach<\/p>\n

Notes:<\/font><\/h3>\n