Making the shoe fit

and a recipe for lasagne al forno with the best ragù alla bolognese

This past summer, I made a rookie move and brought three new pairs of shoes on vacation.

It didn’t take long before I noticed how each pair felt just a little off—a tightness around the toes, soles needing a bit more give. Every step was a reminder that it’s often impossible to get a perfect fit immediately. Some things just need time to mold, soften, and settle before they start to feel just right.

There’s an art to conforming to what doesn’t feel natural—an instinct many of us develop early on. Remember the first time you laced up new shoes as a child? The way they pinched or slid, not quite broken in yet? Perhaps that’s life in a nutshell: a constant dance between discomfort and adaptation.

The power of adjustment

Just as a new shoe needs time to fit just right, our lives sometimes need a little stretching here, a little softening there. Making the shoe fit doesn’t mean avoiding situations or relationships that may cause pain; rather, it means learning how to flex—most importantly ourselves—to bring more ease to the journey.

In this context, allowing ourselves to morph into a new shape is an act of personal empowerment. We take what we have—whether it’s the path we choose, the relationships we’re in, or the environment we inhabit—and find ways to adapt, rather than expecting them to change for us. This isn’t compromise but transformation. To do this is to honour who we are and who we are becoming.

Learning to walk barefoot

”Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?”

—Rumi, 13th century Persian poet and Sufi mystic

Yet, at times, it seems that no amount of adjustment will make the shoe fit. The material doesn’t stretch; the form is unyielding. In those moments, we may decide to step away, leave behind the discomfort, and, perhaps, walk barefoot for a while. Walking barefoot means choosing uncertainty over comfort, the rawness of freedom over the safety of constraint. It grounds us in a powerful way, connecting us to something more elemental and down deep.

When we find ourselves in life situations that don’t feel like “us”—a career path that feels foreign, a relationship that feels like wearing shoes on the wrong feet—we instinctively try to adjust. We squeeze into roles, behaviors, and routines that may not feel like home, convincing ourselves they’ll eventually fit. But deep down, we know when something isn’t right.

The choice to walk away from what doesn’t fit isn’t easy, but it’s often the only way to find a new path forward. It’s perhaps a recognition that sometimes, nothing fits because it’s time to grow in a different direction.

Embracing the path

Life doesn’t often hand us the perfect fit; instead, we are handed a patchwork of moments, people, and paths that sometimes rub the wrong way or don’t feel quite right. Like a shoe that’s a touch too tight or a little too loose, we learn to adjust, to make it work, even when it isn’t exactly what we’d hoped for. The process becomes a lesson in growth, in the art of stretching ourselves in the right places.

One thing is certain: the “perfect fit” is often more myth than reality. Living fully is to embrace every pinch and stretch in shoes that sometimes fit perfectly and sometimes don’t, and, when needed, finding the courage to go barefoot when no comfortable pair is in sight.

With each step we take, snug or unsteady, there’s a beauty in trusting that we’re always drawing nearer to ourselves.

Lasagne al forno with the best bolognese sauce

Anna Del Conte, The Gastronomy of Italy

Anna Del Conte is an iconic figure in Italian cuisine, often credited with bringing authentic Italian cooking to British kitchens. Known for her meticulous recipes and deep understanding of regional Italian flavours, Del Conte has inspired generations of home cooks to embrace the simplicity and richness of Italian food.

This lasagne recipe, a beloved classic, showcases her philosophy: quality ingredients, careful technique, and an appreciation for the timeless traditions of Italian cooking. Plus it features her superb ragù alla bolognese recipe, one to rival those of Marcella Hazan and Ada Boni.

NOTES

The lasagne has three key steps: make the ragù alla bolognese; make the béchamel sauce and assemble the lasagne. The assembled lasagne may strike you as being skimpy on the sauce and cheese; don’t add unnecessary mozzarella or additional Parmesan (although I do serve extra ragu on the side for those who, like Richard, love a hearty lasagne—as evidenced by his photo above).

The ragù alla bolognese is an excellent freezer staple to have on hand. Double up on the recipe and freeze extra ragù for three months.

Ingredients

Ragù alla bolognese (see Notes)

4 tablespoons (50g) unsalted butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

3½ oz (100g) unsmoked pancetta, finely chopped

1 small onion, very finely chopped

1 small carrot, very finely chopped

1 small celery stalk, very finely chopped

7 oz (200g) lean ground beef

3½ oz (200g) minced pork

5 tablespoons (75ml/2½ oz) red wine

2 tablespoons tomato puree diluted with scant ½ cup (100ml) hot meat or chicken stock

A grating of nutmeg

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

5 tablespoons (75ml/2½ oz) full-fat (whole) milk

1. Heat the butter, oil, and pancetta in a deep, heavy-bottomed saucepan and cook gently for 2–3 minutes. Add the onion, carrot, and celery and cook over a medium heat until the vegetables are soft, stirring frequently.

2. Add the beef and pork and cook until the meat has lost its raw colour, stirring frequently. Pour in the wine and boil briskly for 2–3 minutes, until the liquid has evaporated.

3. Add the diluted tomato puree, season with nutmeg, salt, and pepper, and cook for 5 minutes, stirring frequently.

4. Meanwhile, bring the milk to simmering point in a separate small pan. Pour the milk over the meat (the liquid should just come level with it) and stir thoroughly. Cook, uncovered, over the lowest heat, for at least 2 hours. The ragù should not boil, but just break a few bubbles on the surface. Stir occasionally during cooking and taste and adjust the seasoning at the end.

Béchamel sauce, noodles and Parmesan cheese

9-12 lasagne sheets (I like De Cecco Lasagne #112 egg noodles; you can use whatever brand/type you prefer, including fresh and no-boil noodles)

2¼ cups (500ml) full-fat (whole) milk

7 tablespoons (110g) unsalted butter

scant ¾ cup (85g) all purpose flour

Freshly ground nutmeg

Salt

1. Heat the oven to 425°F.

2. While the ragù is cooking, cook the lasagne sheets, according to the package instructions, in a large stock pot with plenty of boiling water, to which you have added 1 tablespoon of salt. Plunge 4 sheets of lasagne into the boiling water, move them around with a fork so that they do not stick together, and cook them for 1 minute. Retrieve the sheets from the water using an offset spatula and lay them out side by side on clean tea towels. Repeat until you have cooked 12 sheets.

3. When all the lasagne sheets are cooked, make the béchamel sauce. In a small saucepan, bring the milk to its simmering point. In a separate medium saucepan, melt the butter over a low heat and add the flour, whisking continuously until the flour has been incorporated. Add the milk gradually, whisking the whole time. Cook the béchamel over a very low heat for about 5 minutes, stirring very frequently, until thickened and smooth.

Assemble the lasagne (see Notes)

1. Generously butter a 12 x 8in lasagne dish and then spread 2-3 tablespoons of ragù over the bottom of the dish. Cover with a layer of lasagne sheets and then spread 2 tablespoons or so of ragù over the pasta, followed by the same amount of béchamel sauce. Sprinkle with a little of the Parmesan and repeat to build the dish up with these ingredients until you have used them all. The top layer must be of béchamel.

2. Dot with the butter and bake for about 20 minutes. Leave to rest for at least 10 minutes before serving.