I had a beautiful lasagne dish. It wasn’t just used for lasagne. Blackberry cobbler, scalloped potatoes and, of course, the Thanksgiving Stuffing of Death were proudly made and served in my dish. It had deep sides that were slanted for easier cleaning. It had 2 big handles to make it easy to place it in and out of the oven. I would carefully soak it after every use so the cantaloupe colored glaze would remain unstained.
It developed a crack. That is when angst set in. I didn’t dare use the cracked dish. What if bacteria built up in the crack and tainted the food? I left my dish on the counter and fought with myself. Finally, I tossed it, deliberately breaking it so that there would be no turning back. After all, how hard could it be to find another perfect lasagne dish?
Apparently, harder than I ever thought. All the dishes I have inspected for the last month have been too heavy, too shallow, too red, too white, without handles. I’m not Goldilocks here. I don’t consider myself a finicky person. Clearly all I want is my old dish without the crack. I have 3 months more to find a dish. This is South Carolina, after all, and it’s far too hot for lasagne until October. The blackberries are finished here for the summer and Thanksgiving day is still far off. Lasagne dishes are very thin on the ground, but I will emerge victorious, oven-safe, dishwasher and microwave proof.
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