Baked Manicotti

Meatless is not a word we use around here very often. Mostly because we love our meat. But periodically I like to change things up a bit. And you can always tell if a meatless meal is a hit or a dud around these parts. "This is really good, but..." is usually the indicator that the meat was definitely missed and that I should take note to add meat next time. Or pass on the dish all together. But if the lack of meat doesn't even surface in dinner table conversation, it means everyone is too busy eating, not asking "Where's the beef?" Or chicken. Or pork.

This is one of those meals. And how could you miss the meat when you're drowning in gooey cheese and marinara?? And pasta. Can't forget the pasta. Because I.Need.My.Carbs. The first couple of times I ever made manicotti, I used actual manicotti tubes. And you know what?? They were awful. To work with.


Imagine opening the box and seeing that there's a couple that are cracked/broken/maimed. And you haven't even laid a hand on them yet! Sigh. So, you move past the inconvenience. Boil your water and cook up the good ones. The goal here is to cook them al dente. Because if you don't, when you go to remove them from the water, they'll rip. We're talking from experience here. So, another two bite the dust. At this point there's still half a box and you've got things figured out. Al dente. Key here. So, you get the rest of the tubes cooked to perfection. You don't need to be told more than once. Now comes time to fill them. Just spoon your cheesy goodness right in and you'll be on your way. But wait. Somehow, when you're trying to spoon your filling in it gets everywhere. All over the outside of the entrance to the tube and you're trying to clean it off. Because Iron Chef America has taught you that presentation is 20% of the dish's overall score. And while you're trying to get them presentation perfect, a couple more shells tear. And you're not even quite sure how it happened. #IronChefAmericaFail

Flailing around in the kitchen (or anywhere for that matter) is NOT something I do. Which made the above situation even more distressing for me the first time (and maybe a second time) I made these. I needed to come up with a solution. So, I delved into my pantry. And when I came up for air, I had in my hand a partial box of oven ready lasagna noodles (without the ruffle-y edges). From the one time I made lasagna with them (and not something I will do again because it just didn't taste like my mom's). Just cook up those lasagna noodles and roll up the filling inside. Like a cheese enchilada. Only not.

Baked Manicotti

1 Tbsp olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 onion, finely diced1 15oz can tomato sauce
1 15oz can diced tomatoes (or 2 cups diced fresh tomatoes)
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp dried parsley
salt and pepper to taste
1 1/2 cups ricotta cheese
3 cups mozzarella cheese, shredded, divided
1/2 cup parmesan cheese, shredded
1/3 cup pesto
12 oven ready lasagna noodles (without the ruffle edge), cooked al dente

Preheat oven to 350˚ F. In a medium saucepan, heat oil over medium heat. Add in garlic and onion and saute until onion is translucent, stirring occasionally so the garlic and onion don't burn. Add in tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, oregano, parsley, and salt and pepper. Simmer over low for 10 minutes. In a medium bowl, combine ricotta, 2 cups mozzarella, parmesan, and pesto. Pour 1/2 of the tomato sauce into the bottom of a 9x13 pan. Lay your cooked noodles out on a flat surface. Spoon approximately 2 Tbsp of the ricotta cheese filling onto each noodle. Roll up each noodle and place in the 9x13 pan on top of the sauce (in two rows of six). Cover with remaining sauce and top with remaining cup of mozzarella cheese. Sprinkle with some dried parsley if desired. Bake for 35-45 minutes or until cheese on top is bubbly.

Source: Adapted from Kraft

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