

The story of lasagna that died in 5 acts ππ1. There was a recipe - a promise of happiness in every serving. π2. There was the produce - fresh as the morning air. π₯¬π§π 3. My hands - I cooked it neat and with love. ββ€οΈ 4. It didn't live long as it was burned. π₯5. It's going to hell now - I'll give her a final bow. ππ₯Farewell, lasagna. We won't forget you π€£π€£π€£