A deep and ingredient-busy take on the classic, constructed with four layers of pasta and a little geometric thinking

Bearing in mind that lasagne is a construction, it pays to start with some easygoing geometry. That is, think about the size of the dish you want to fill in relation to the size of the sheets you are using and the number of layers you want the lasagne to have. For four to six servings, I use a particular ceramic dish, because its 20cm x 29cm proportions mean that, broadly speaking, two fresh sheets of shop-bought egg pasta or four dried ones make a single layer (homemade pasta can be rolled and cut with scissors to whatever size you like, so is less relevant here).

Having calculated how many sheets are needed for each layer, the next question is: how high do you want your lasagne building to be? Height depends on the density of the filling, which, in the case of this week’s recipe, includes sausagemeat rolled (using wet hands and speed) into small, grape-sized meatballs that act like height-boosters in shoes. This elevation, along with tomato sauce and three cheeses, means that, even with just four layers, this lasagne has depth and cuts into satisfying squares. All this emphasis on the dish is also fitting because the word lasagne seems to derive from the Latin lasanum (cooking vessel), which in turn derives from the ancient Greek λάσανον, which signified either a cooking vessel or a tripod set over a fire.

Spoons at the ready for 83-year-old Maria’s rustic risotto with pork and saffron, and Rita’s polenta-style rice with a punchy sauce

If I were to say “Italian rice”, you might well think “risotto” and “the Po Valley”. However, these two recipes come from Sardinia and the Marche, mainly because I wanted to share a few easy, not-laden-with-rules Italian rice dishes.

Wobblesome, firm or silken, tofu is a star ingredient in Chinese cooking. These dishes show why

In the west, tofu is often viewed as a substitute for meat, which may explain why firmer types that can be cut into chunks and fried or grilled like meat have become so ubiquitous. In China, however, where tofu has been eaten for at least 1,000 years, it isn’t a substitute for anything; it’s simply a protein-rich ingredient that forms part of most people’s diets, can be cooked with meat and fish, and comes in myriad forms, from the tender, wobbly tofu used to make Sichuanese mapo tofu to firm smoked tofu, sheets of tofu “skin” and the silken tofu that can be as soft as creme caramel. Many Chinese tofu recipes are so delicious that habitual meat-eaters will devour them as keenly as vegetarians.

The gooseberry makes itself welcome in both sweet and savoury settings: in a tarte tatin, in a lively salad for spicy, herby pork chops and in a crumble custard cake

In the summer glut of saccharine fruits such as strawberries and peaches, gooseberries may not be the ones you reach for first. But behind their strange burr of fine fuzz, these translucent, marble-like fruits offer a complex, defiant flavour. They are juicy, fragrant, a little sweet (especially the red ones that come along later in the season), but, overall, they are raspishly sour. Like rhubarb, they need sweetening if you’re using them in compotes or desserts, but their natural tartness offers a wonderful contrast and cuts through cheese, fatty meat such as pork or oily fish such as mackerel.

British berries always sparkle in desserts like this French almond sponge, but their hidden talent lies in savoury dishes

British berries have a secret; we tend to reach for them in crumbles, fools and jammy things, but their real superpower is their tartness – it’s the key to their versatility. Think of them less as fruit and more as a condiment: something to cut through richness and balance a dish, in much the same way that a good vinegar might. I’ve long had a love affair with British berries – childhood summers spent picking blackberries from the hedgerows for my grandmother’s apple and blackberry pie started it all – but over the years I’ve become increasingly reluctant to confine them just to dessert. Let these be your permission to do the same.

Whether you’re firing up midweek or taking your time with a weekend feast, try these five fabulous recipes to get you started cooking over the coals

• Get barbecue-ready with Melissa Thompson’s guide

I dabbled in barbecue for years before I got my first proper grill with a lid and vents. It was a gamechanger; I could control the airflow (to make it hotter or cooler), and the lid transformed the grill into a sort-of oven, enabling slower cooks (rather than only fast grilling). No longer was I starting chicken in my indoor oven before finishing it over the coals – I could do the whole thing outside.

I found myself lighting the grill more and more, seeking that flavour that only comes with fire and smoke, but also relishing the fact it took me outside. Nowadays, I cook everything over fire, from fish and shellfish to vegetables, beans, meat, even desserts. Fire cooking feels both instinctive and exciting because no two cooks are ever the same. People tell me they find barbecuing scary, and I understand because I once felt like this, too. But with a few basic tips, such as “zoning” your barbecue, anyone can become a pro. I truly believe that by starting to barbecue we’re not learning a skill, but re-learning something we’ve forgotten.

A family favourite transforms TV dinners into a summery event

It’s the time of year when the TV, balanced on the Ikea unit with castors, its feet supported by wooden splints, is wheeled between the kitchen doors so it faces out on to the terrace (flat roof). In the absence of a barbecue or outside shower, the TV is our seasonal shift; an inside object moved outside and, in the process, made (slightly) more exciting. As a result, TV dinners are also altered, as well as given another layer of soundtrack – birds shouting, people chatting in the bar below, the held-down horn of the articulated lorry that can’t reach the supermarket because a car is double parked – to the one coming out of the TV speakers. We also have a table outside, but that changes the nature of a TV dinner too much: the table is moved aside for wooden chairs, tea towels and plates on laps, with focaccia sandwiches with mortadella and parmesan cream for the meat eaters, and parmesan cream, tomato and a handful of green leaves for those who don’t.

Mortadella is considered an insaccati parzialmente cotti, or partly cooked sausage. Its origin is debated, with some suggesting it derives from the object it was pounded in, il mortaio (the mortar); others say the name can be linked back, as is so often the case, to the Romans, and a sausage flavoured with myrtle berries called farcimen murtatum. The dates around when it was first made are also debated, because of a mention of something called mortadella in 12th-century cookbooks, though that was likely made of veal or donkey. The 1600s are a better place to start, when a nobleman and agronomist called Vincenzo Tanara described meat: two-thirds lean from the pork shoulder and leg, cut into large cubes, then transformed through “sharp pounding”, stuffed and cooked at a moderate temperature. Alongside instructions for production, there were strict edicts regulating the labour-intensive processes involved in making luxury products for those who could afford them.

Perfect for the football, these half-time snacks are quick to assemble and sure to score highly with friends

Both of these sausage-based delights are great for a gathering, can be prepared in advance and go really, really well with ice-cold beers. God bless the sausage. Whether your team is winning, losing, embarrassing or delighting, everyone will consider you the Cristiano Ronaldo of half-time snacks if you bang either of these out. The prawn and sausage toasts can be made in advance and kept in the fridge with greaseproof paper between the slices, then you just need to fry them when you want them. Similarly with the hotdogs: prep everything in advance, then, when the whistle goes, boil the sausages, steam the buns and get stuck in.

An unusual frittata with a risotto base, and a simple but delicious salad combination that’s sure to be a big hit

I love this salad – the combination of soft, juicy chicken, crisp leaves and anchovy croutons is so delicious. We serve it on the terrace at my restaurant and, when the sun is shining, it is the biggest seller by a country mile. But, first, an unusual frittata, which is essentially a risotto base with asparagus: it’s not difficult to make and is perfect for lunch, and even better as part of a picnic.

Pork is an underrated barbecue meat, and this taste of Thailand pairs perfectly with a fiery mango salad

I tend to start grilling food the second I catch a glimpse of the sun. After all, even if the temperature drops or the clouds threaten, I can always resort to my griddle pan indoors. Pork is an underrated meat for the barbecue, and a slow-cooked shoulder or loin is a wonderful thing. When I’m short on time, however, I often go for mince: it’s reasonably priced and has enough fat for a deliciously juicy skewer. Here, I’ve infused it with Thai seasonings that take me back to the heady experience of eating grilled street food in Bangkok. A feisty mango salad and some rice on the side are all you need for a feast.

From beans, lentils and tofu to chicken, pork, beef and fish, experts weigh the health benefits and potential drawbacks

Do you think you’re not getting enough protein? Debbie Fetter, an associate professor in nutrition at the University of California, Davis, likes to ask her students this same question. In a lecture hall of more than 500 people, “almost every hand shoots up”, she says.

Protein is top of mind for consumers. A 2024 survey of 3,000 Americans suggests most are trying to eat more of it, and research shows that foods labeled “more protein” are especially appealing to consumers.

Cheesy vegetarian sliders with pickles and slaw, and caramelised cheesy cabbage wedges

Cabbage is one of my favourite ingredients. I love it for its versatility, and also because it’s nutritious and incredibly satisfying to cook with. I’ve been putting cabbage on my menus for more than two decades now, and at Our Farm in Cartmel, Cumbria, we grow hundreds of varieties to use across my restaurants’ kitchens throughout the year. For me, cabbage has always been one of the real heroes in the kitchen, and today’s recipes are about creating generous, seasonal dishes to share with it at their centre.

This simple Spanish classic will convince even staunch fava-phobics to give beans a chance

I always feel sorry for broad beans, the lumpy cousin perpetually overshadowed by the charms of slender, elegant asparagus and sweet, bouncy, little peas. They’re in season at roughly the same time, but asparagus in particular gets all the glory, perhaps because so many of us are scarred by childhood experiences of large, grey wrinkly beans served in a floury white sauce (my own parents are so averse to the things that I vividly remember the first time I came across them on a Sunday roast as a teenager and had to ask a friend what they were).

Unsurprising though it is, given our general scepticism with regard to pulses, the British lack of enthusiasm for the broad bean is a particular shame, because it’s been an important part of the European diet since ancient times. As the Oxford Companion to Food explains, however, they are also linked to a “superstitious dread” possibly associated with “a general belief that the souls of the dead might migrate into beans”. Having eaten a lot of the things in the process of writing this piece, I can reassure nervous readers that no haunting has yet taken place, and that this Spanish way with them is all but guaranteed to convince even the staunchest of fava phobics. Go on: give them a try.

Smoky peppers, spices, soy and oil all help with that fatty, salty, deeply savoury flavour, breadcrumbs and mushrooms add texture

I’ve recently given up eating pork, but I’m struggling to compensate for its umami. How can I recreate the taste and texture in, say, carbonara or my beloved chorizo dishes?
James, by email
For Joe Woodhouse, author of Weeknight Vegetarian, there’s just something about white beans: “Whether cooked from dried, then dropping chopped onion, garlic, sage and thyme into the broth, or just dumping a jar or tin into a pan with fried garlic and sage, the smell that fills the kitchen is like that of sausagemeat,” he says. “It tastes a bit like it, too – or at least the memory of it, bearing in mind I haven’t eaten the stuff for 30 years.”

The quest for that umami savouriness could start with soy sauce, Woodhouse says (“or Slow Sauce’s oat shoyu”), while chef Mike Davies’ first port of call would be Totole’s Chinese mushroom seasoning powder: “It’s super-effective in replacing the richness and fattiness that comes from cooking with any meat, and especially pork,” says the chef-director of the Camberwell Arms, south London. “Honestly, it’s such a cheat-code ingredient.”

This marvellous staple of the Portuguese kitchen is a rich bean stew with pork and sausages that makes an excellent one-pot feast. You might find it’s perfect for midweek …

If you are trying to incorporate more beans and pulses into your diet, as I am, then this robust, one-pot feast, which food writer Edite Vieira describes as “a marvellous standby of the Portuguese kitchen”, is one to bear in mind. Though each region has its own variations, “basically”, she explains, “feijoada is a rich bean stew with pork and sausages”. The Brazilian version, often cited as that country’s national dish, is the product of the West African “love of beans”, according to the Oxford Companion to Food, with some suggesting that it’s a South American creation that travelled to Europe along with returning colonisers. Others insist with equal fervour that the dish was “born in the north of Portugal, and imported and adapted to what was available in Brazil”. Like so many such homely favourites, its precise history will probably ever remain a mystery; what’s important is that it’s simple to prepare, easy to adapt according to taste and budget, and very satisfying.

I can’t get enough of cabbage right now, and it’s the perfect wrap for this warmly spiced picadillo filling

I love stuffed vegetables. When I was young, I came across a recipe for stuffed aubergines in an old book of my mother’s and must have cooked it a score of times. Later, in the early 1990s and to the echoes of nouvelle cuisine, Delia Smith showed us how we could work similar magic with peppers and tomatoes. Then the technique went deeply out of fashion, but I stayed loyal, and continued quietly stuffing tomatoes, pumpkins and courgettes, all no doubt influenced by my travels in Mexico. Thoday’s stuffed cabbage is inspired by the most delicious tongue in a tantalisingly light escabeche that I once had at Nicos in Mexico City, and also because I can’t get enough of cabbage at the moment.

Maiale al latte pairs tender pork with a creamy, caramelised sauce – and saves old milk from a down-the-sink fate

According to the Sustainable Food Trust, “the milk from 40,000 cows (300,000 tonnes) is tipped down the kitchen sink each year – a real slap in the face for the farmer”. Even though some supermarkets have now swapped use-by for best-before dates on their milk, those dates can still be confusing, so always do the sniff test before binning it: even if it’s a little sour, you can still cook with it.

Social media’s latest trend is a reminder that perfectionism isn’t always the best way forward. If we want to make change, maybe we need to give ourselves a bit of a break

You might at first be tempted to mark the date and write down the exact time, certain that this was the moment we really had heard it all. A new hypothesis is doing the rounds on social media, and it’s called Vegan but Bacon. Yeah, I thought flexitarian was annoying enough too, but apparently not.

Vegan but Bacon. Whatever next, eh? Virgin But Sex? Hang on though, because there might actually be something to this. A plant-based content creator called Liz kicked it off, replying to somebody who said they’d join her culinary crusade if it wasn’t for their relish for rashers. “So do it,” she told them, “Go vegan but bacon.” Three million views later, many had shared how they didn’t eat any animal products 95% of the time, or only at home, or allowed themselves a hall pass item. “Harm reduction is harm reduction,” said Liz (which is vegan for “it’s better than nowt”), before pointing out that most people make progress a step at a time rather than all at once.

Citrus brings vibrancy and zing to savoury and sweet dishes alike

Citrus season brings an entirely new dimension of seasoning – a way to add vibrancy, nuance and brightness far beyond the standard squeeze of lemon. For me, citrus isn’t just acidity: it’s a complex alternative to sugar and vinegar, with varieties that offer bitterness, floral tones, sweetness and sharpness in equal measure. With more than a hundred types of lemons, clementines and limes now available, I find it easiest to think of them in two groups: sour citrus and sweet citrus. Once you know which you’re working with, you can explore each variety’s complexity and decide how best to use it.