A lasagne for the in-between season

There’s a particular kind of magic to a long weekend Sunday. The pace slows even further, the usual Sunday dread softened by the knowledge that Monday can wait. And after a week where everything’s felt a little too full – too many emails, too many people, not enough sleep – there’s something deeply appealing about staying in. Just us. Just here. Just now.

This is Sunday Club, our quiet little rebellion against the rush of everything else. A series devoted to cooking for the joy of it – not for work, not for anyone’s approval, just because we love it. It’s about choosing to make something that feels a little special, lighting the candles even when the weather says no, and bringing a little restaurant romance into our own home kitchen.

If you missed the first instalment (crispy duck legs, pickled cherries, dauphinoise – a strong opener), you can catch up here. And if you want each recipe a day early, sign up to the IndyEats newsletter – it lands every Saturday at 7am, ready for your shopping list. Sign up here.

This week’s recipe was chosen not because it’s clever or showy, but because it feels right. It’s late May, technically spring, but the sky hasn’t quite caught up. We’ve had a run of busy days, and the thought of anything involving a barbecue or much admin was quickly ruled out. What we wanted was comfort – but comfort with a little optimism. A dish that tastes like the light is changing.

So we made lasagne – not the heavy, wintry kind, but a spring-into-summer version. It’s the edible equivalent of cracking open the rosé while wearing a jumper – a gentle nudge to the season, a plate full of hopeful green. We’ve packed it with the best of what’s left from spring: peas, fennel, spinach. And then, cheekily, we’ve thrown in some early courgettes because, well, we’re ready for them. The lemony béchamel is light and zippy, the basil makes it sing, and the whole thing feels like something you’d eat on a warm terrace – even if you’re actually curled up under a blanket with the rain pattering outside.

It’s simple, soothing, and just indulgent enough. The kind of cooking that reminds us what Sundays are for.

Serves: 4-6

Ingredients:

For the filling:

2 tbsp olive oil

1 small fennel bulb, finely sliced (or 1 leek, cleaned and sliced)

2 courgettes, finely sliced into rounds

2 garlic cloves, crushed

150g spinach (fresh or frozen)

150g peas (fresh or frozen)

Zest of 1 lemon

1 handful of basil, roughly torn

Salt and pepper, to taste

For the béchamel:

50g butter

50g plain flour

600ml whole milk

Zest of 1 lemon

A generous grating of nutmeg

50g parmesan or pecorino, finely grated

Salt and pepper

To assemble:

6-8 fresh lasagne sheets

Extra cheese for the top

Optional: pangrattato (breadcrumbs fried in olive oil with garlic and herbs), or basil oil to drizzle

Method:

1. Prep the veg. Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan. Add the fennel (or leek) and cook gently for 5-6 minutes until softened. Add the courgette slices and a pinch of salt, and sauté until just golden at the edges – around 8 minutes. Add the garlic, spinach, and peas, and cook until everything is tender and vibrant. Stir through the lemon zest and basil, then set aside.

2. Make the béchamel. Melt the butter in a saucepan. Stir in the flour and cook for a minute to form a roux. Gradually whisk in the milk, stirring constantly until smooth and thickened. Add the lemon zest, nutmeg, and cheese. Season well.

3. Assemble. Preheat the oven to 180C (fan). In a baking dish, layer béchamel, then lasagne sheets, then a layer of veg. Repeat until everything is used up, finishing with béchamel and a final grating of cheese.

4. Bake. Bake for 30-35 minutes until bubbling and golden. If you’re feeling extra, scatter with pangrattato or drizzle with basil oil just before serving.

To serve:

A sharply dressed salad – peppery leaves, radish, lemony vinaigrette.

A glass of white wine with backbone – like a Vermentino, or something with a bit of salinity.

Seconds. Always.