Fish Pie With Bechamel Sauce

I thought I knew lasagna. I believed my mom’s lasagna could not be improved upon. She always made it so cheesy and flavorful. She made her own homemade sauce with tons of vegetables. She would even keep a little sauce on the side to pour over the lasagna after it was cooked. This was a genius idea.

Then, Claud made lasagna and I couldn’t believe how delicious it tasted. I wouldn’t say it was better than mom’s, just different and equally delicious. There were other ways to make this masterpiece dish. It was completely different from my mom’s recipe. My mom’s was vegetarian and Claud’s was very meaty. His Bolognese sauce needed to cook for a whole day and contained a bottle of red wine. But, the real secret, the part of this lasagna which really made it beyond my wildest taste fantasies was the béchamel sauce. This creamy white sauce made my taste buds sing.

I had never heard of a béchamel sauce before. I quickly learned all about it and how to make it myself. Bechamel is a white sauce made with milk and thickened with a white roux. In the 19th Century, Chef Antonin Careme of France came up with a list of the four mother sauces from which all great sauces are derived. Bechamel is one of these mother sauces, along with: espagnole, veloute, and allemande.

The bechamel sauce Claud used in the lasagna is combined with tons of cheese. It’s not advisable, but I believe I could just eat this sauce with a spoon…on its own…as a soup. No, I’d probably get a pretty bad stomach ache if I tried this. The thing I learned from Claud’s lasagna is how sauces make any dish beyond fantastic. His lasagna would have still been great with his Bolognese and some melted cheese. But, the creamy cheesy bechamel brought it up a notch.

Sauces are the secret to making food into extraordinary works of culinary art. For example, yesterday I went to Turner Hall for dinner. My friend Charlie ordered the ribs and everyone at the table agreed that it was their special sauce that really made those ribs incredible. Sure, a poached egg on a buttered English muffin with a dash of salt and pepper would be a fine breakfast…but, add the hollandaise sauce and things change. Each bite is followed by a moan and a smile. Well, at least, I do this. What would mashed potatoes and turkey be without the gravy? Who would want pasta without a delicious alfredo or marinara sauce (unless you are five years old)?

Not long after my introduction to Claud’s lasagna, his mom made me something I had never tried. She announced, “tonight I am making fish pie.” “Ewwww,” I thought, “fish pie?” I believed that would be gross. I had never heard of it nor had any interest in making something called fish pie. It sounded like punishment for children in an old fairy tale.

Claud told me his mom made this at least once a month for the family when they were growing up. I thought, “How sad for those children.” I envisioned a pie tin filled with gooey fish and topped with a pastry crust. Well, turns out, I couldn’t have been further from the truth. She sat the huge dish of fish pie on the table, next to a bowl of buttered peas. The top of the “pie” was smothered in creamy mashed potatoes. Claud served me a portion of the pie along with some peas. I took a bite and smiled. I tasted flaky white fish, herbs, mashed potatoes and….bechamel sauce. It was absolutely delicious. Every bite brought the smile and the, “mmmm.”

This week, I made it for the first time and it was as delicious as I remembered. No doubt, the béchamel sauce is the secret to this dish. It blends so well with the fish and potatoes. I realize those Monro children were quite lucky to have this dish once a month.