In which the mozzerella cheese became bleu cheese

I cleaned out the freezer today as part of my cooking endeavor (read: graduating from three step microwave cooking to three step oven cooking. I'm genuinely proud of myself). I found a lasagna I'd made with my grandma as part of a batch meant to use on days where a homemade lasagna would hit the spot. 

Of course, that was a good eight months ago. I consider this fact a true testament to my will power. Every time I'd look at it, I'd think, "boy that would taste really good tonight, but I should really save it for a night when I really need it." Sadly, I realize those nights were usually ones where I'd get Ivar's or Dick's. What little culinary pride I have left says, "well you ate four out of the five dishes made, so it's not that bad." And then I tell myself that, yes, actually it is that bad. *sigh*

Where was I going with this again? Ah yes, the eight month old lasagna. Since it was covered only with tin foil, I had expected it to be a bit dry, but perhaps desiccated might be a better description. Worse yet, it had mold on it. The frozen lasagna had mold on it. Huh. And here I was thinking that sort of thing was limited to ice algae.