Baked Rigatoni with Roasted Summer Vegetables

Scott picked a fight on Tuesday night about the thermostat. The thermostat. He said the house was too cold. I said the house was set to 74, which is not too cold by any reasonable standard. He said I was wasting money. I said I was keeping the children from heat stroke. It escalated from there — the way our fights always escalate, from the small thing to the real thing, except we never get to the real thing. We orbit it. We fight about the thermostat because we cannot fight about the drinking or the distance or the way he looks through me when he's home like I'm a wall he has to pass on the way to somewhere more interesting.

He slept on the couch Tuesday night. Wednesday we were civil. By Thursday we were back to the routine — polite, functional, parallel. Two people in the same house, managing the same children, sharing the same bed (when he returns to it), and failing to share anything else. I don't know when this became our marriage. I don't know when the space between us became so wide that even an argument can't bridge it.

Mason starts kindergarten next week. I took him for his kindergarten registration on Friday — the school is a ten-minute drive from our house, a small public school with a playground that Mason surveyed with the analytical intensity of someone evaluating a potential investment. He met his teacher, Mrs. Liu, who is young and energetic and called Mason "buddy," and he smiled at her in a way that made me think he was going to be fine. Better than fine. He was going to thrive in a place with books and structure and people who answered his questions all day.

Lily turned three on Wednesday. Three. She celebrated by refusing to wear pants for the entire day, eating half a cupcake and throwing the other half at Hank, and informing me that she is "a big girl now" with the authority of a Supreme Court justice issuing a ruling. I made her a small pink cake — just the two of us, plus Mason — and we sang happy birthday in the kitchen, and she blew out her candles on the second try, and her wish (which she announced loudly, because three-year-olds do not understand the concept of secret wishes) was "a horsie." I filed this away as a problem for future Heather.

At the clinic, Dr. Pham complimented my work with Jamie, the new tech. He said I have a gift for teaching — that I explain things clearly without condescending, that I let people make small mistakes so they can learn, that I have patience. I thanked him and thought about how strange it is that I have patience at work and none at home. Or maybe I have it at home too, but it's a different kind — the kind that looks like silence, the kind that looks like letting the thermostat fight end without resolving it, the kind that looks like going to bed alone and not saying anything about it.

I made Lily's birthday dinner — mac and cheese from scratch, because it's the only thing she eats with enthusiasm. Real mac and cheese: elbow macaroni, a roux with butter and flour, sharp cheddar and Gruyère melted in, baked with breadcrumbs on top until golden and bubbling. Lily ate it with her hands. Mason ate it with a fork. Scott ate it standing up in the kitchen before going to the garage. I ate it sitting at the table with the two people who appreciate it most, and that was enough.

Lily’s birthday dinner — real mac and cheese, made from scratch, eaten with the two people who actually sat down at the table — reminded me that some meals are less about the occasion and more about the act of making something with your hands for people who will receive it. This baked rigatoni with roasted summer vegetables lives in that same space: it takes a little time, it fills the kitchen with the kind of warmth that has nothing to do with the thermostat, and it tastes like something worth sitting down for.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

12 oz rigatoni pasta
1 medium zucchini, diced
1 medium yellow squash, diced
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small red onion, sliced
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 (24 oz) jar marinara sauce
1/2 cup ricotta cheese
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella, divided
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, divided
Fresh basil for garnish

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
Roast the vegetables. Spread the zucchini, yellow squash, bell pepper, cherry tomatoes, and red onion on the prepared baking sheet. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons olive oil, season with salt, pepper, and Italian seasoning, and toss to coat. Roast for 20–25 minutes, until tender and lightly caramelized at the edges.
Cook the pasta. While the vegetables roast, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook rigatoni 2 minutes less than package directions (it will finish cooking in the oven). Drain and set aside.
Sauté the garlic. In a small skillet, warm the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and red pepper flakes and cook for 1 minute until fragrant. Remove from heat.
Combine. Reduce oven temperature to 375°F. In a large bowl, combine the drained rigatoni, roasted vegetables, garlic oil, marinara sauce, ricotta, 1 cup mozzarella, and 1/4 cup Parmesan. Stir gently to combine. Season to taste.
Bake. Transfer mixture to a greased 9x13-inch baking dish. Top with the remaining 1/2 cup mozzarella and 1/4 cup Parmesan. Cover loosely with foil and bake for 20 minutes, then uncover and bake an additional 10–15 minutes until the top is golden and bubbling.
Rest and serve. Let sit for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh basil.

Nutrition (per serving)

Baked Rigatoni with Roasted Summer Vegetables — The Dinner That Was Enough