I am not going to talk about the election except to say that Wednesday morning at the plant was the quietest I have ever heard it. The line ran. People worked. Nobody talked. Jerome and I ate lunch in silence, which was a first. Whatever people were feeling — and people were feeling a lot — they channeled it into the work, because the work does not care about elections. The Grand Cherokee does not have a political affiliation. It needs to be built correctly regardless of who is president, and so we built it correctly, and we went home, and we processed the future in our own ways.
Brianna cried on Tuesday night. Not about the election specifically, but about the world Aiden is going to grow up in. She held him in the rocking chair in his room and cried, and I stood in the doorway and felt the helplessness of a father who cannot fix the world but is responsible for presenting it to his child as something worth living in. Aiden did not understand why Mama was sad. He patted her face with his small hand, which is his response to any strong emotion, and she laughed through the tears, and I came and put my arms around both of them, and we stood there in the dark of Aiden's room, a family in a circle, holding on.
By Thursday, the plant was back to normal, or whatever normal is now. Jerome made a joke. Someone played music from their phone. The shift ended and I went home and Brianna had made baked ziti — one of her better dishes, with ground beef and ricotta and mozzarella and Prego sauce, baked until the cheese was browned and stretchy. It was good. It was dinner. We ate it in front of the TV and watched a nature documentary because neither of us could handle the news.
Sunday dinner was subdued. Mama cooked pot roast. Dad did not mention the election. Nobody did. The Carters deal with large events by not discussing them — we process internally and express externally through food and presence. Mama cooked extra. She always cooks extra when the world is hard. Food is her response to everything: birth, death, crisis, joy. When in doubt, feed people. When in certainty, also feed people. The pot roast was tender and rich and exactly what we needed, which Mama knew without being told, because that is what mothers do.
Aiden is nineteen months old. He does not know what an election is. He knows his parents, his daycare friends, his grandmother's kitchen, and the dog next door. His world is small and safe and full of love. Keeping it that way is the only political act that matters to me right now.
That week, I didn’t want to cook anything that demanded too much of me—but I also didn’t want to give up on feeding my family something real. Mama’s pot roast reminded me that food is care made tangible, and I wanted to carry that into our weeknights without the weight of a three-hour recipe. This skillet lasagna is what I landed on: all the comfort of something slow and warm, ready in twenty minutes and simple enough to make while Aiden’s still awake.
Healthier 20-Minute Skillet Lasagna
Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 lb lean ground beef (90/10)
- 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 jar (24 oz) marinara sauce
- 1 cup water
- 8 oz uncooked lasagna noodles, broken into roughly 2-inch pieces
- 3/4 cup part-skim ricotta cheese
- 1 cup shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese, divided
- 2 tablespoons fresh basil or parsley, chopped (optional)
Instructions
- Brown the beef. Heat a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and diced onion. Cook, breaking up the meat, for 5–6 minutes until no pink remains. Drain any excess fat.
- Build the sauce. Add the minced garlic, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper to the skillet. Stir for 30 seconds until fragrant. Pour in the marinara sauce and water. Stir to combine and bring to a boil.
- Cook the noodles. Add the broken lasagna noodles to the skillet, pressing them down into the sauce. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and cook for 10–12 minutes, stirring every few minutes, until the noodles are tender and have absorbed most of the liquid.
- Add the ricotta. Drop spoonfuls of ricotta evenly across the surface of the pasta. Sprinkle 3/4 cup of the mozzarella over the top. Cover the skillet and cook for 2–3 minutes, until the cheese is melted and the ricotta is warmed through.
- Finish and serve. Remove from heat. Sprinkle the remaining mozzarella and fresh herbs over the top if using. Let sit uncovered for 2 minutes before serving directly from the skillet.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 40g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 870mg
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 33 of DeShawn’s 30-year story
· Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.