A Vegetarian Lasagne with Roasted Vegetables

Why This Lasagne Earns Its Place at the Table

Ask most couples what they cook when they want an evening to feel like a small occasion, and lasagne comes up again and again. It is generous, it fills the kitchen with a smell that promises something good, and it rewards a bit of shared effort — one of you stirring sauce, the other whisking béchamel, both of you negotiating over the last spoonful of nutmeg. The only trouble is that the classic version leans on ragù. Swap in roasted vegetables and you lose nothing at all: the bake keeps its deep, savoury character and gains a sweetness that only comes from vegetables caught at the edge of caramelising.

This is Italian cooking in spirit rather than in rulebook. Travel through Emilia-Romagna and you will find lasagne that changes from kitchen to kitchen, village to village, and almost always built around what the garden gave that week. Think of this version the same way. Courgette, pepper and aubergine are simply what happens to roast beautifully in a British oven in September, and they happen to be excellent company for tomatoes, pasta and cheese.

Roast the Vegetables First — This Step Matters

Skipping the roasting is the single mistake that turns a good vegetable lasagne into a soggy one. Raw vegetables release water in the oven, and that water will find its way down through the pasta and pool at the bottom of the dish. Roasting drives off that moisture and concentrates the flavour.

• 1 large aubergine, 2 medium courgettes (about 400g), 2 red peppers
• 3 tablespoons olive oil, plus a little extra for the aubergine
• Salt, black pepper, a few sprigs of thyme if you have them

Cut everything into rough 2cm chunks — keep them chunky so they hold their shape. Toss in oil and season well, then spread across a large roasting tray in a single layer. Aubergine drinks oil greedily, so add a splash more once it is in the tray. Roast at 200°C fan (220°C, gas mark 7) for 30 to 35 minutes, turning once at the halfway point. You want edges that are properly browned, not merely soft. Tip the tray and pour away any liquid that has collected.

A Tomato Sauce That Tastes of Something

While the vegetables roast, make a sauce with enough body to hold the whole thing together. A watery sauce plus watery vegetables equals a disappointment.

Warm 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a wide pan and soften 1 finely chopped onion for 8 minutes. Add 3 sliced garlic cloves and cook for another minute, then stir in 2 tablespoons of tomato purée and let it darken for a moment. Tip in two 400g tins of chopped tomatoes or, better still, passata, which gives a smoother, thicker result. Add a pinch of sugar, a teaspoon of dried oregano, a good pinch of salt and a few torn basil leaves.

Simmer gently for 25 to 30 minutes, uncovered, until the sauce has reduced and a spoon dragged through it leaves a clean trail. Taste it. If it tastes flat, it needs salt; if it tastes sharp, another pinch of sugar.

Béchamel, the Quiet Hero

Béchamel is what makes a vegetarian lasagne feel indulgent rather than worthy, and it takes about ten minutes. Melt 50g of butter in a saucepan, whisk in 50g of plain flour and cook the paste for 2 minutes without letting it colour. Add 600ml of whole milk gradually, whisking hard after each addition to keep it lump-free. Drop in a bay leaf and simmer for 5 minutes, stirring, until it coats the back of a spoon.

Off the heat, season with salt, white pepper and a generous grating of nutmeg — start with a quarter of a whole nut and adjust. Stir through 60g of finely grated hard cheese. If you are cooking for vegetarians, check that your cheese is made with vegetarian rennet, as many Italian-style hard cheeses are not.

Layering, Baking and the Rest That Matters

Use a dish roughly 20cm by 28cm. Spread a thin layer of tomato sauce across the base, then build: pasta sheets, roasted vegetables, tomato sauce, béchamel, and repeat twice more. Finish with a final layer of pasta, the last of the béchamel and a scattering of grated cheese. You will need about 9 to 12 dried sheets, depending on size — snap them to fit rather than overlapping, which leaves hard patches.

Bake at 180°C fan (200°C, gas mark 6) for 35 to 40 minutes. Cover with foil for the first 25 minutes so the pasta softens, then remove it and let the top blister and brown. Then do the hard part: leave it to rest for 15 to 20 minutes before cutting. This is not fussiness. It lets the layers settle so the portions hold together on the plate.

Assembled unbaked, it keeps happily in the fridge for 24 hours, and it freezes well for up to a month — bake from frozen, covered, adding 20 minutes.

What to Drink, and Where to Dream Of

A medium-bodied red with good acidity is the answer here. A Chianti Classico, a Barbera or a Montepulciano d'Abruzzo all cut through the cheese and meet the sweetness of the roasted peppers. Serve it at 16°C to 18°C — slightly cooler than room temperature — and decant it while the lasagne rests.

If you want the full effect, set the table properly, light a candle, and let the conversation drift towards a hillside town in Tuscany or a long lunch somewhere in Emilia-Romagna, where the lasagne arrives bubbling in its own dish and nobody is in any hurry. That, really, is what this recipe is for: a midweek evening made to feel like a holiday, cooked by two people who like being in the kitchen together.