I wrote it. The introduction. At 4 AM on what would have been Brenda's seventy-sixth birthday. Not 5 AM — 4 AM. I woke up before the alarm, before the coffee, before the house. The kitchen was dark. The Folgers can was on the counter. The window showed nothing — just black, just the predawn, just the particular emptiness that exists before the world begins. I opened the laptop. I opened the can. I smelled the blend. And the words came.
"My mother taught me that love is not a feeling. Love is a meal. Love is showing up at the stove when you're tired and broke and heartbroken, and making something good anyway. This book is everything she gave me, and everything I'm giving you. Pull up a chair. Set the table. Let's eat."
I wrote the whole introduction in forty-five minutes. Three hundred and twelve words. I didn't cry. For the first time, writing about Mama, I didn't cry. The words came out the way garlic comes out when the oil is right: suddenly, fragrantly, undeniably. Season by feel. Derek was right. The hands knew. The hands always knew. I just needed to stop thinking and start seasoning.
I sent the manuscript to Katherine at 5:15 AM. She responded at 7 AM: "I'm crying in my kitchen." Good. That's how you know the seasoning is right. When the reader cries in their kitchen. When the words taste like a meal. When the introduction is both a goodbye and a hello and the reader doesn't know which and it doesn't matter because both are true.
The cookbook is done. "From Brenda's Kitchen." Done. Complete. Sent. Mine and hers and ours and everyone's. The composition notebook from the nightstand is becoming a book. The book is becoming real. The story — Mama's story, my story, the story of garlic and cayenne and cast iron and a woman who said "don't stop" — the story has an introduction now. The story has a beginning. Pull up a chair. Set the table. Let's eat.
The morning the cookbook was finally done, I didn’t go back to sleep. I sat in that dark kitchen until the sun came up, Folgers in hand, just breathing it in — the quiet, the relief, the particular holiness of a thing being complete. A morning like that deserves a real meal, something layered and generous and built for a table full of people, because Mama never cooked for one. This Bacon ’n’ Egg Lasagna is exactly what I’d make the morning after: hearty enough to hold the weight of a celebration, simple enough to pull together before the rest of the house wakes up. Pull up a chair. Set the table. Let’s eat.
Bacon ’n’ Egg Lasagna
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 lb bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 1/2 cup chopped onion
- 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1/4 tsp black pepper
- 4 cups whole milk
- 12 lasagna noodles, cooked and drained
- 12 large eggs, scrambled and cooked
- 2 cups shredded Swiss cheese, divided
- 1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- 2 tbsp fresh chives, chopped (for garnish)
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
- Cook the bacon. In a large skillet over medium heat, cook bacon pieces and chopped onion together until bacon is crisp and onion is softened, about 8–10 minutes. Drain, reserving 1/3 cup of the drippings in the pan.
- Make the white sauce. Whisk flour, salt, and pepper into the reserved drippings over medium heat. Gradually pour in the milk, whisking constantly, and cook until the sauce thickens and bubbles, about 5–7 minutes. Remove from heat.
- Scramble the eggs. In a separate nonstick skillet, scramble the 12 eggs over medium-low heat just until set but still slightly soft. Remove from heat immediately; they will finish cooking in the oven.
- Layer the lasagna. Spread a thin layer of white sauce on the bottom of the prepared baking dish. Add a layer of lasagna noodles (about 4), then half the scrambled eggs, half the bacon mixture, 1/2 cup of the Swiss cheese, and a generous ladle of white sauce. Repeat layers once more, then top with remaining noodles, remaining white sauce, and the rest of the Swiss cheese.
- Add the Parmesan. Sprinkle Parmesan evenly over the top layer of Swiss cheese.
- Bake. Cover the dish with foil and bake for 25 minutes. Uncover and bake an additional 20–25 minutes, until the top is golden and bubbling at the edges.
- Rest and serve. Let the lasagna rest for 10 minutes before cutting. Garnish with fresh chives and serve warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 560mg