Man-Sagna: It's Like Lasagna for Men

My son's swim team traditionally will "carb up" before a big swim meet.  This "pasta party" happens at our house with a dozen or so excited but exhausted swimmers every year.  The feast is followed by the tradition of shaving: heads, chests, legs, armpits, AND OTHER AREAS.  (Didn't need to see that!)

We wanted to put a new spin on the otherwise dull spaghetti with red sauce and began thinking of ways to crank up the flavor of the sauce.  Mario Batali would tell you it's the pasta - not the sauce.  ehh.  Who am I to argue?  I am the guy feeding a dozen hungry swimmers!  That's who!

Okay, so tomato-based sauce plus extra stuff equals marinara right?  Well, what if we go farther?  Add black olives, celery, (not impressed yet?) add STEAK, jalapeno peppers, beans!!  It's chili!  Oh Hell Yeah!  Layered with pasta, cheese, more chili, more cheese...

I give you MAN-SAGNA! 

Take your favorite lasagna recipe and ignore anything it says about the sauce.  Substitute chili.  Never out of a can, dude.  That's nasty.  Just make the chili the day before and refrigerate overnight to let the flavors get all happy.  Seriously, that's one thing that tastes great as leftovers.

My chili recipe is in the book (http://www.chicksdigyou.com/ ) and it makes plenty to eat right away and to save for the Man-Sagna recipe. 

Layer the chili,  cooked lasagna noodles, ricotta cheese (thinned with some chili), more chili, mozzarella, noodles, repeat as often as your baking dish will allow.  Bake at 350 degrees for about 90 minutes.  Let it sit for 20 minutes before cutting.

Grocery Store Hell

Express lane check out

Obey your signs.  I actually had a cashier once tell me to come over to the Express (8 Items or Less Only) Lane once when I had a cart heaped with groceries.  Eight items or less?  No, I had probably 88 items.

But I foolishly moved over to her lane with my 8 items and my additional 80 items, knowing that anyone ending up behind me would be pissed as hell.  Can you see where this is going?

Sure enough, some dork in black socks and high-top shoes with fish-belly-white legs and skin tight high school PE shorts buying smokes and beer, picking at his one good tooth ends up behind me.  He mutters under his breath about it being an Express Lane and who the hell can’t count around here?

Naturally I showed incredible self-restraint towards the dental poster boy and stewed silently.  Then, like the stand-up kind of guy I am, I asked the cashier to add his cheap beer and cigarettes to my bill so he could get on his way.  I was his hero and this guy actually began to seek me out in the store.  It got to be a little much, and I had to move to another city.

Don’t let this happen to you.  Obey your lane