Green Lasagna

16 February 2013.

Vegans Like "Comfort Food," Too: Green Lasagna.

On Saturday, tin and I decided that it was time to stop making excuses for not finding a Farmer's Market. We live in a big city full of eco-conscious eaters, and, feeling taunted by a photo of Berlin-renowned vegan chef Björn Moschinski riding his bicycle through a market, we decided that it was time to take a short Tram-venture (a mere fifteen minutes) to a huge nearby open-air farmer's market.

It was, admittedly, significantly colder there than in our local whole foods store. But the cold fingers and toes were well worth it, because we came away with some really beautiful, German-grown produce at a great price: like little red apples from nearby Brandenburg for 99 cents/kilo -- can't beat that.

 But by the time we made it home, we were really in the mood for a warm helping of comfort food. tin's suggestion? -- A green lasagna, made from our fresh purchases.

A good lasagna, in my opinion, has three critical components: chewy noodles, a thick, "cheesy" sauce, and a "flavor" layer. Most vegans make a traditional, tomato-based lasagna, substituting ground beef for sliced eggplant or mushrooms. Personally, I'm not a huge fan of eggplant lasagna. I think that there are lots of wonderful and creative uses for eggplant, but find that when sandwiched between layers of noodles and tomato sauce, not only does eggplant become unpleasantly slimy, but its subtle flavor is simply overwhelmed by the acidity of the tomatoes.
Instead, when beginning with a tomato base, I like to fill my lasagna with greens, and with vegetables that readily absorb flavor.
This particular lasagna began with two cloves of sliced garlic, sautéed in a teaspoon of olive oil along with a half of a large leek that we'd picked up at the market. Working with leeks, incase you've never done it before, requires first a good washing. Leeks grow in sandy soil, which they readily take with them on the trip from garden to kitchen. To clean up a leek, slice it open, lengthwise, down the middle, and separate the leaves from one another under cool running water (you'll notice that the leaves nestle inside of one another, like the rings of an onion, to form the characteristic thick, sturdy, stalk-like structure of the leek).
I didn't want to use the entire leek, so I chopped off the part I wanted and washed only that portion, leaving the rest on my counter for the next day (if you don't get it wet, you'll reduce the risk of mold growth/spoilage). Simply give the washed leek a nice chop. You don't have to make the pieces into miniatures.

To the leek and garlic, I added two cups of frozen spinach. I turned the heat down on low, covered the pot, and let the spinach thaw and warm up slowly -- you may need to add a tablespoon of water to the frozen spinach to prevent it from scorching.

In the meantime, I preheated the oven to 350 degrees and turned my attention to preparing the sauce component.
A traditional lasagna contains not only a layer of stringy, melted mozzarella cheese, but also a soft, crumbly ricotta also stirred into the sauce. Ricotta is a sort of double-agent in lasagna, bringing not only a signature "tang" but also, by virtue of being a dairy product, ricotta acts as a creamy "neutralizer" against the acidic tomatoes. Making a good vegan lasagna, in my opinion, means learning mimic those two important qualities.
Thus my sauce begins with two cups of tomato sauce. I use a pure, unflavored variety (100% tomatoes -- no added salt, etc.). I've already introduced you to the idea of using tofu as a cheese replacement -- and indeed, the same trick applies here. I super-finely chopped 200g of tofu until I had produced small, crumbled pieces. I stirred them directly into the tomato sauce in a cooking pot.
With the tofu, you've successfully copied the texture of ricotta -- now to reproduce its "tangy" flavor, I add a cup of natural soy yoghurt. Super creamy, and slightly sour, the yoghurt will keep your sauce nice and thick so that when it meets the other elements of your lasagna, it won't get too wet & watery -- there's nothing worse than a liquid-y lasagna that won't "set up." So if you don't have yoghurt, please don't use soy milk. You will end up with a runny mess. For flavor, we added a lot of fresh black pepper, and a tablespoon of finely chopped basil leaves.

Finally, you want to add a "meaty" element. If I try to imagine the textures of a classic lasagna recipe, I remember the mouth-feel of ground beef being primarily a "crumbly" one, with a sort of chewy quality. Reviewing our farmer's market loot, tin and I decided on cauliflower.
Now -- there's a trick to making sure that your cauliflower will end up boasting a ground-beef-like texture: rather than cutting it into florets, you're going to slice it.
For a 9"x13" baking dish, I needed half of a head of cauliflower. Thus I cut straight through the head (down toward the stem). I removed the stem and the leaves, and then, completely ignoring the boundaries of individual florets, I sliced my cauliflower into 1/4" slices. Try to keep the slices intact, and as large as possible. You'll want to mimic the sheets of lasagna noodles.

And now, assembly is a breeze. Begin by putting down a layer of lasagna noodles in the bottom of your baking dish. Next, ladle out the tomato sauce, spreading it evenly over the noodles. Next, lay down the sliced cauliflower. The order of the next two steps is a matter of personal preference: I chose to top my sliced cauliflower with the spinach-leek mixture, and to finish with another layer of noodles; traditionally, this would be reversed to better ensure that all of the noodles will be evenly cooked. However, I enjoy a nice "crispy" topping on my vegan lasagna, as the  pleasure of stringy melted cheese is one that I won't be able to reproduce. Thus I drizzle the noodles on top with olive oil, and add a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Whether the top layer of your lasagna is spinach or noodles, cover the baking dish with aluminum foil and bake for 30-35 minutes. This will create enough internal steam to cook the noodles on top to an "al dente" finish. At the end, I like to remove the aluminum foil and bake until the noodles on top start to brown, and the edges curl up (about five minutes). I find that this satisfies my desire for that feel-good crispy, bubbly browned layer of mozarella cheese that I remember from the lasagnas of my childhood.

Our green lasagna was sweet, yet savory, crunchy, chewy -- all of those heart-warming, comfort-food-feelings that one should associate with a lasagna. Best of all? -- we had leftovers for lunch the next day.