Blog

09 AUGUST 2025

Tomatoes

August. The month tomatoes were born for.

There’s a point, usually somewhere in the middle of August, when a tomato isn’t just a tomato anymore. It becomes summer’s grand finale—sweet, juicy, fragrant, and just asking to be picked and eaten barefoot in the sun.

And that’s exactly what happened last week, in the garden of Lasagnariet’s founder’s father.

He doesn’t say much about his tomatoes, but he treats the plants like family. The way he inspects the leaves, touches the soil, gently lifts a fruit and gives it a small nod of approval—you’d think he’s talking to them. Maybe he is.

One was picked. Big, red, slightly uneven. Still warm from the sun. And when it was cut open and tasted, something clicked. That explosion of real tomato flavour somehow reflected both childhood memories and everything Lasagnariet strives to be. Unpretentious, honest, and made with love.

The tomato weighed nearly one kilo. No tricks. No greenhouses. Just sunlight, water, time, and a lot of care. Grown naturally, as it should be. No fertilizers or fancy methods—just letting nature do its thing. And somehow, nature delivered a tomato that could’ve doubled as a bowling ball.

It was a cuore di bue. Ugly-beautiful, full of folds and curves, fleshy and soft. And the most surprising part? It didn’t even need salt. That’s what real tomatoes do when they’re grown properly—they carry their own natural sapidity. A rich, savory sweetness that feels complete. You bite into it, and your brain goes: “Don’t touch this. It’s perfect.”

About the tomatoes—because not all tomatoes are created equal.
Let’s clear something up. Cuore di bue isn’t exactly the go-to tomato for making sauce—at least not when it’s fresh off the vine. It’s the undisputed king of salads, after all. But when it gets really ripe—almost too ripe—that’s when the magic happens. Its unique, fleshy texture becomes the perfect natural thickener, adding depth of flavour and a silky smoothness to your sauce. Still, the real secret? Mixing things up. Combine overripe cuore di bue with juicy San Marzano tomatoes for their perfect balance of pulp and acidity, and toss in some cherry tomatoes for that bright, sweet tang that cuts through richness like a summer breeze. That’s how you build a sauce that’s not just good—it’s worth mopping up with bread. You know, scarpetta.

Lasagnariet has tried to chase that same feeling in Sweden too. A few years ago, tomatoes from https://lillalaback.se/ —a local producer—completely changed how Swedish tomatoes were seen in the kitchen. Their fruit was bursting with character, flavor, and that same sense of something grown with patience and pride. Not identical to the ones grown in that family garden in Italy—different climate, different soil—but equally real. Equally good.

That bite sparked an idea.

What if tomatoes like that could make their way into the Lasagnariet kitchen—not just for staff meals, but for everyone?
So here’s the wish, plain and simple: Lasagnariet is looking for farmers and growers in Sweden who believe in the same kind of produce. Natural. Seasonal. Unrushed. If you know someone growing outrageously good tomatoes—send them our way.

What if pizza Margherita… became lasagna?
You know the flavour. Fresh tomato. Creamy mozzarella. A sprinkle of basil. The simple perfection of pizza Margherita, named after Queen Margherita of Savoy in 1889, when a Neapolitan pizzaiolo crafted a dish using the colors of the Italian flag. Red tomatoes. White mozzarella. Green basil. An edible flag—and a royal approval stamp.

Now imagine that—layered.

Lasagna Margherita.
No ragù, no overcomplication. Just sunshine-ripe tomatoes, basil pesto (made in-house), a light béchamel, and fior di latte mozzarella tucked between silky pasta sheets.

Simple? Yes. But don’t be fooled. Simplicity in food is like minimalism in design—it only works when everything is perfect.

And the tomatoes have to be perfect.

Which brings us back to August.

Season first. Then recipe.
At Lasagnariet, the best dishes begin with when, not how. It doesn’t start with a recipe. It starts with the market stall. Or a garden. Or a crate of tomatoes that somehow smell like sunshine and possibility.

That’s why Lasagna Margherita is made only during tomato season. It’s never rushed. It’s never off-season. When tomatoes aren’t at their best, the dish disappears.

Seasonal produce isn’t just a trend—it’s how real cooking works. When you follow the seasons, food tastes like it’s supposed to. When you don’t, it tastes like someone forgot to care.

Why this lasagna is worth trying
Lasagna Margherita isn’t trying to be the star of the show. It’s a supporting actor for those late-summer moments when you’re not craving something heavy, but still want a dish that feels like home.

It’s vegetarian. It’s kid-friendly. It’s light, fresh, and easy to love. Great with a chilled bottle of Rålund’s blueberry drink, or a glass of Lambrusco if the mood is more Italian countryside than Stockholm sidewalk.

Some might wonder—will people expect the usual Bolognese? Will they miss the meat? Will they get confused?

Probably.

But that’s part of the fun. That little pause when someone takes a bite and says, “Wait... this tastes like pizza. But it’s lasagna?”

Exactly.

And the best part? You don’t have to choose. Pizza or pasta? In this case, you get both.

So, what's next?
Lasagna Margherita will be served only while the tomatoes are still singing. When they’re gone, the lasagna will disappear too—like a good summer fling. But while it lasts, it’s everything August should taste like.

Sun-kissed. Simple. Fresh. Homemade.

Since always,
Lasagnariet.
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