A Memorable Labor Day Lasagna Lesson

For Alameda High School juniors of 1970 vintage, Labor Day was the portal into a new school year. For me, the portal was framed by the frightening words from Dante’s Inferno, “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.”

My life was in tatters, as my stepfather had abandoned my mom to live with his mother, merely explaining that “ he was sick of marriage.” We also were being evicted from our beautiful Fernside Boulevard home, as my stepfather’s attorney had rescinded the mortgage agreement. My mom, still recovering from a miscarriage, had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized.

Needless to say, I was in no position or mood to start a new school year, and seriously considered dropping out to earn money as an electronics technician.

My frustration and anger at my stepfamily was intense, and it shocked me when my former uncle Mingo’s beautiful teal blue 1958 Chevy Impala pulled into our driveway on Labor Day weekend, its horn blaring.

Mingo slowly pulled his short, stocky 65-year old frame from the car, his thick salt-and-pepper graying hair tousled, and his blue Big Ben work shirt unbuttoned and displaying a still muscular chest, honed by his years of work as a longshoreman and a cook.

As I angrily approached, he held up his hands and said, “Don’t punch me kid. I’m on your side. Your sissy former stepdad is nursing a black eye, courtesy of me. That mama’s boy never should have gotten married, and we’re all sorry for how this turned out. But I need a favor, kid, and I’ll reward you.”

My anger receded and I asked, “What favor?”

Mingo smiled, then said “My old Zenith TV is on the fritz, and I know some of these repairmen around here are bandits, so I was hoping that you could look at it for me.”

“And?” I grunted.

Mingo laughed and replied, “I’ll pay you, and because you love great Italian cooking, I’ll show you how to make the best lasagna in the world. And after that, we’ll go over to my buddy Rocco’s place, because he’s got a nice apartment building on Park Avenue with a vacant two-bedroom, and I’ll help you guys rent it out until your mom gets back on her feet.”

The relief that I felt caused me to tear up and sob, and Mingo put his hand on my shoulder, saying, “You’re family, kid, and I’ll always be your uncle. Now, get your gear. Gunsmoke is on tonight and I don’t want to miss it.”

I gathered my tools and some replacement vacuum tubes, and soon we were at Uncle Mingo’s basement apartment in my former Nonna Kate’s Broadway Victorian.

As I was replacing the dead damper tube in the old Zenith, I heard loud piano playing upstairs and a discordant female voice bellowing, “Yessir, that’s my baby, humph, no sir, I don’t mean maybe, humph, yessir, that’s my baby now, humph.”

“What the hell is that?” I yelled as the TV crackled back to life. Uncle Mingo watched the TV, clapped his hands in joy, and then responded “That’s my cousin Asunta Marie. She’s up here from Fresno for nose surgery.”

Before I could respond, the cacophony continued, “Ain’t she sweet, humph, see her walkin’ down the street, humph, now I ask you very confidentially, humph, ain’t she sweet , humph.”

I was fascinated by yet another eccentric addition to my former Italian-American stepfamily.

“Tell me about Asunta Marie,” I said.

Uncle Mingo ignored me, shifted his head upward and yelled, “Hey Asunta Marie, play ‘San Antonio Rose!’”

Without delay, the piano tinkled the familiar chorus of the old Bob Wills tune, as Asunta Marie screeched, “Deep within my heart, humph, lies a melody, humph, a song of old San Antone, humph.”

Delighted, I asked, “Can I try?”

“Yeah,” Uncle Mingo laughed, “but try to disguise your voice, I don’t want them to know you’re here.”

Raising my voice to a high-pitched female version, I barked, “Hey Asunta Marie, play ‘Don’t Be Cruel!’”

“Sure, humph,” Asunta Marie answered. A moment later, the boogie woogie rhythm of the classic Elvis tune began, with Asunta Marie howling, “You know I can be found, humph, sittin’ all alone, humph.”

Uncle Mingo and I were both in hysterics when I asked, “What’s with the humph?”

He caught his breath and answered, “That’s why she’s up here. She busted her nose in a car wreck, and it affected her breathing, so she says humph to draw in her wind. She plays piano and sings in her bar in Fresno, and the humph is killing her business. I hope the surgery doesn’t make it worse. Humph!”

We were still giggling as we made the rounds to pick up goods for the lasagna. We bought ground chuck, chicken livers, and beef stock from Tim the butcher at New Island Market (now Stanford Health care), along with prosciutto, basil, carrots, onion and celery from Pete at P and G Market (in the spot formerly occupied by Linguine’s, soon to become a taqueria), and sheets of fresh spinach lasagna pasta, canned San Marzano tomato puree, and a pound of Parmigiano Reggiano from the Alameda Delicatessen (now Viva Taqueria).

After meeting with Uncle Mingo’s friend Rocco and explaining my family’s situation, Rocco agreed to rent to my mom, due to Uncle Mingo’s verbal and financial voucher. The delicious lasagna and the news that we were no longer homeless was exactly what I needed to stay in school, and what my mom needed to recover on that memorable Labor Day long ago.

Uncle Mingo’s World’s Best Lasagna

Prepare Ragu Bolognese and Besciamella sauces as follows and set aside. Then assemble the Lasagna with those sauces.

The Ragu Bolognese

• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1 yellow onion, peeled and minced
• 1 medium carrot, peeled and minced
• 1 rib celery, minced
• 1 oz. prosciutto, finely chopped
• 2 chicken livers, finely chopped
• 2 lbs. ground chuck
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• 1 cup hot milk
• 1 cup hot beef stock
• 1 28-oz. can San Marzano Tomato puree

1. In a Dutch oven, warm the olive oil over medium heat.
2. Sweat vegetables until soft.
3. Add prosciutto and chicken livers, saute until no longer pink.
4. Add ground chuck, cook until no longer pink, do not brown.
5. Add wine, cook until wine is evaporated.
6. Add milk, cook until milk is evaporated, about 10 minutes.
7. While milk evaporates, heat stock and puree in a separate pan.
8. Add stock and puree to meat mixture, simmer for 2 1/2 hours.
9. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

The Besciamella

• 3 Tbsp. butter
• 4 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
• 2 cups hot milk
• Salt and pepper to taste

1. Melt butter in a pan on the stovetop.
2. Stir all-purpose flour into the butter to make a roux.
3. Stir hot milk into the roux to make a creamy, thick sauce.
4. Add salt and pepper to taste.

The Lasagna

• 12 lengths of fresh spinach lasagna pasta, cooked al dente
• Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, freshly grated
• Prepared besciamella
• Prepared ragu sauce

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Add a thin layer of ragu to the bottom of a 13×9 baking dish to prevent pasta from sticking.
3. In the dish, spread four pieces of the lasagna pasta, overlapping.
4. Spread a layer of besciamella over the pasta.
5. Spread a layer of ragu over the besciamella.
6. Sprinkle a layer of Parmigiano Reggiano over to ragu.
7. Repeat the layers two more times, ending with a generous spread of sauces and cheese.
8. Bake 30 minutes or until bubbly.

Gil Michaels will be making lasagna for Labor Day at gil@alamedapost.com . His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Gil-Michaels .

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