The Lasagna Joke

Renu was a dutiful working wife - or, at least, she believed so. Her husband, on the other hand, did not really share the same opinion. He once said to her, in his usual ‘friendly’ tone, which she was extremely accustomed to:

“You are a dutiful wife, but that depends on what your definition of ‘dutiful’ is. Not waking up early in the morning to make breakfast for me, doesn’t allow me to call you a dutiful wife.”

She had the same expression on her face that she made when she was once called “an irresponsible wife, who lives in La La Land”, by the same person. She thought to herself: “Breakfast is the only thing that I cannot make because of work in the morning! At least, don’t judge me for that!” She remained quiet.

You see, her husband was a rather traditional man and his Indian roots would not allow him to compromise on anything- not even when it came to his relationship with his wife. She might make multiple succulent meals for him, yet he won’t be satisfied. She might make breakfast every weekend for him, yet it won’t be sufficient. She realized she always struggled with the breakfast part. She enjoyed cooking more than anyone else and even listed cooking as her favorite hobby on social media platforms; created a cooking page for herself on Facebook and Instagram – which, unfortunately, she could not keep up with, due to not being tech savvy, as her husband would tease her sometimes. She agreed with her own flaws and settled well with them. Renu liked her comfort zone and was not one who easily accepted change. She was happy the way she was and thought her husband would be, too. Afterall, she had demonstrated some amazing skills, before and after her marriage: she knew how to cook scrumptious meals from a variety of cuisines; she could paint and draw on canvas; she could perform Indian classical dance; she could sing and entertain; she was a welcoming hostess; she could knit and above all, was an English and History teacher. So, she thought if someone wasn’t content with a partner possessing all these skills, then what else could possibly make them happy? She sneered at the thought. She called herself a full-time working wife.

Renu and Shubhy had known each other for more than ten years now; the first four years, only as colleagues. Then, after many ups and downs, they eventually tied the knots. They once, in anger, said that they regretted being married. But was it really so?

Renu, who was now married for more than three years to her dear husband, was an optimistic person. She knew there was a lot to change, however, she would ponder over those in her thoughts only and would never muster the courage to discuss the concerns she had with her husband. The thoughts of the heated arguments that these discussions always resulted in, constantly played in her mind and she would see no benefit in the persuasion of these conversations. So, she continued thinking that maybe another scrumptious dinner would delight him. If not me, my food will make him content with me… she often wondered.

With the same ardent smile, after a long exhausting day at work, she stood there in the kitchen, while her husband was on his way home, from work also. She could feel the gentle relaxation of her muscles and shoulders after a warm rejuvenating soak and was so tempted to just throw herself on the couch for a quick nap, in the absence of her husband. But no! Let’s make that meal one more time! Her inner voice screamed inside her head. Don’t you wanna make him happy? Don’t you want to prove yourself one more time? Don’t you want to be called the dutiful wife, for real?

She calmed herself down. Her wet hair was still tied in a bun since the time she had taken a bath and she was in already in her pajamas. I can do better! She said to herself. She took a quick glance at her phone – that was how she usually checked the time. About forty-five minutes till he reaches home! This time she really wanted to surprise him. With another good meal, of course. Dinner had to cover all the flaws he saw in her. Dinner had to make up for all the times she appeared as an irresponsible or undutiful wife, who shunned away her responsibilities. Having a job can never be an excuse and you have to COOK, no matter what! You have to make breakfast; prepare lunch and cook dinner, every single day, even if you work. Having a full-time job is not an excuse. Certainly not!

Renu now had an even better idea. She would surprise him with one his favorites. Italian! Things got into place when she checked and realized that all the ingredients she needed – at least, the main ones - were there, staring back at her from the shelf in the kitchen pantry. What could possibly go wrong? Once she had her mind set, that was it. She would not stop. Renu could create magic in the kitchen with the basics. The kitchen was a stage and she was the performer. It all came from her mother – yes, that’s where she learnt it all from. When she was little, she used to watch her mother create magic in the kitchen, under pressure. And that’s how she grew up.

The clock was ticking and she knew she only had about forty minutes left now, after bringing the lasagna sheets to boil. She wanted to make it the best meal again so it would erase the memory of his previous meal which was as delicious. It has to be tastier than the last meal so I feel appreciated again! So, she grabbed the required ingredients and in the blink of an eye, she had prepared the red sauce with the meat that would be placed on top of the cooked lasagna sheets. Renu had a quick taste. Consistency of sauce – checked. Seasoning – checked. Meat – cooked to perfection. And the Bolognese was done.

Next was the most exciting part of the process. Renu loved Béchamel sauce and more than eating it, she enjoyed making it. It would always turn out good – after all, it was her mother’s recipe. The tip for making a good Béchamel – as mother once said – was to have all the ingredients ready to use and to keep whisking. So, in went the butter; then the flour which she whisked continuously and while whisking with one hand, she grabbed the milk with the other and poured it slowly over the cooked flour. It was a never-ending whisking process and Renu smiled while her eyes glistened when she realized that the sauce now had a silky-smooth consistency, with no lumps. That was the biggest victory for her. She then added her favorite ingredient in the sauce to thicken it, just a little more: cheese. She whisked it lightly and as the cheese melted, Renu’s heartbeats slowed down too and regained its normal pace. She was relieved she had a perfect concoction. Nothing can go wrong! I want to make a perfect lasagna!

She suddenly realized she only had around twenty minutes left at this point, and knew that the assembling part would take around five to eight minutes. Like an agile monkey, she moved with the fast-flowing pace with equal ease; cleaned all the mess she had made, during the cooking process and preheated the oven. Clean as you cook! Mother had told her; and this is how she had been cooking ever since. Renu had the good habit of following her mother’s instructions diligently and her mother was so proud of her. She was confident that one day, Renu would be able to create magic in the kitchen, just like her.

With her small but sure hands, Renu spread a spoonful of the meat sauce at the bottom of the baking dish, then placed a layer of the lasagna sheets. She did the whole process with the same confidence and zeal as when she had made it the very first time, the second time and the million other times. She knew this could never go wrong. Today, he will have nothing to say to me. With only fifteen minutes left, she quickly ladled a layer of the Bechamel sauce and added another layer of the lasagna sheets. This process was repeated until the baking dish was filled up. The last step was to add a layer of shredded cheese, oregano and drizzle olive oil on it. And it was done!

It shall bake patiently until he arrives. She wiped the remaining crumbs off the glossy kitchen benchtop, to make it shine brighter. That gave her the biggest satisfaction, after cooking. She would walk across the lounge, to the other side of the kitchen benchtop and tilt her head so she could see the granite shine even brighter, due to the reflection of the light from the opposite window. By that time, the smell of melted cheese had invaded the house and she would check the oven every minute to watch the bubbling cheese and inhale the sharp smell of baked lasagna, as it broiled, under the high heat. She loved cheese. But hold on, the pungent cheese smell! How do I get rid of it? He will walk in at any time now! Yes, you see that was the twist in tonight’s dinner. She wanted to hide it.

Impatient and worried Renu quickly grabbed her phone to dial up her husband’s number. When a tired and tranquil voice told her that he had already reached the train station, she knew that she had no time at all. After all, he only had to walk another two or three minutes to be home. She quickly hung up, even though she acted normal. She was certain that her equally tired voice gave him an indication of her weariness, after work.

“As expected”, he would have said to her, in his ‘friendly’ tone. “When are you NOT tired?”

I work the whole day! I drive an hour to and back from work, come home and start cooking. I take care of forty kids at school and my body is running low on iron! She wanted to scream every time he would say something about her exhaustion. But, Renu chose to remain quiet, sometimes. There were moments when silence served a good purpose.

How do I get rid of the smell…? How…how…. Her mind raced, as his steps approached. She knew the door would open at any time now. She quickly switched off the oven, pulled the rack out, grabbed the scalding lasagna dish out with the help of her favorite oven mitts and gently slided it inside the microwave. That is well hidden! She then closed the oven door with a bang, ran to the living room and opened all doors and windows of the house. That will chase the smell away! As the chilly wind from the bitter winter slowly made its entrance to the small cozy house, Renu now laid quietly on the sofa - with the same placid posture, as if she hadn’t cooked anything. It seemed that she had been laying down on the couch since hours, after her usual shower and one would say that nothing had been touched in the kitchen. Not a single utensil in the sink or on the benchtop. Her gaze was fixed on the main door as she impatiently awaited the arrival of her husband.

The excitement of playing a prank on him was more interesting than his arrival, on that specific day. You see, the satisfaction that she would receive upon pulling the dish out of its hidden place or even the joy of seeing him realize that yes, dinner was made even though he thought she wouldn’t have made anything that evening due to her ‘usual exhaustion’ – as he called it - gave her the most delightful feeling ever. It would be a pleasure to know then that she wasn’t a lazy wife. It would be an accomplishing moment for her, which she would consume with so much gratification.

The moment arrived. The prank was played beautifully. Renu turned on the TV, when the door opened. There was no need for her to look in that direction to know it was him. Shubhy walked in with his usual smile and “How have you been?”, while he hung his jacket in the small closet, next to the door. She watched him now. After putting his backpack on the table, his cheeky eyes quickly glanced over the kitchen benchtop and within a split second, he had scanned the whole kitchen – enough, to know whether dinner was made or not. The disappointed look on his face triggered the largest smile on her face, as she kept on watching the screen. He gently walked over to her, bent to lean on the couch so he could kiss her. And, in his usual “friendly” tone, he mentioned to her: “I thought you would make something…” She checked to see that he was still disappointed and she giggled at the thought of proving him wrong.

Renu thought she could no longer await the moment of the most desirable discovery that her husband would be making, in a moment. He probably thinks I am a lazy wife who is just putting her legs up, with an idiotic smile on my face! She got up from the couch to face him, then decided to say nothing. He looked into her eyes and knew immediately that the victorious look in those eyes meant something else. He walked back towards to the kitchen like a little child who was about to steal chocolate from the fridge; opened all cupboards to find nothing; then, pulled open the door of the refrigerator to find only cold and uncooked food. His last try was the oven, which he could now feel was still warm. His doubt converted into certainty. Shubhy stopped for a moment. He did his usual move whenever he was about to make a naughty discovery. There is food…but where? He thought to himself, as he covered his chin with the 90-degree angle formed by his thumb and index finger, while narrowing his glistening eyes.

The lasagna joke ended when he realized that he hadn’t check the microwave. He opened it to pull out the most good-looking lasagna dish, smothered in melted cheese and olive oil. He probably fell in love again, with his wife. With dinner again. As for her, dinner was once more the savior of their relationship and she moved on to serve him generously: she cut through the soft baked lasagna sheets and with a palette knife, pulled out a behemoth lasagna piece and placed it gently on the clean white plate she always used to serve him. Nothing could make them happier.

As she leaned over the famous kitchen benchtop to cut and serve, she grinned like a Cheshire cat, happy that she made another scrumptious meal to please him, but happier that perhaps the lasagna joke could make her become the dutiful wife, in his eyes.

It was a proud moment for her. I won. The dutiful wife won.