Chicken Ricotta Stuffed Shells

June. My birthday month. Nineteen feels like an age that doesn't mean anything — you're not eighteen anymore (the novelty wore off) and you're not twenty yet (which sounds like a real adult). Nineteen is a hallway between two rooms, and I'm walking through it with flour on my hands and a composition book full of recipes and a man who wants to marry me.

Dustin asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I said, "A KitchenAid mixer." He laughed because those cost $300 and we both know we can't afford that. I said, "I'm kidding. Bring me flowers again. The gas station kind is fine." He said, "You deserve better than gas station flowers." I said, "Dustin, I deserve a lot of things, and most of them I've gotten myself. The flowers are just nice."

But the real birthday present came from Mama. She brought over a box — a shoebox, taped shut, heavy. Inside: her recipe cards. Every single one. The ones written in her handwriting on index cards, stained with grease and flour and twenty years of cooking. Chicken and noodles. Pinto beans. Cornbread. Meatloaf. Tuna casserole. Every recipe that kept us alive when Travis was drinking the grocery money and the lights were off and the only thing standing between us and hunger was Shelly Moreland and a bag of dried beans.

I held those cards and I couldn't speak. These are the recipes I learned from watching, from standing next to her at the stove, from necessity. But I'd never seen them written down. She'd been writing them down for years — for me, she said. "So you'll have them. So your kids will have them." My kids. Future kids. Kids who will never eat by flashlight. Kids who will never wonder if dinner is coming. Kids who will sit at a table and eat food made from their grandmother's recipe cards and never know how close those recipes came to being lost.

I made her chicken and noodles from the card that night. It tasted exactly the same. It tasted like home.

Mama’s chicken and noodles card is the one I’ll guard most carefully — but it’s not the only way to honor what she handed me. These Chicken Ricotta Stuffed Shells have become my version of that same feeling: pasta wrapped around something warm and good, bubbling in sauce, filling the whole apartment with a smell that says someone here loves you. When I make them, I think about those index cards, her handwriting, the stove she stood at for twenty years so we wouldn’t go hungry. I make them and I feel it — that tether between her kitchen and mine.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6

Ingredients

20 jumbo pasta shells
2 cups cooked chicken, shredded or finely chopped
1 (15 oz) container ricotta cheese
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 cups marinara sauce
Fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish, optional)

Instructions

Cook the shells. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook jumbo pasta shells according to package directions until just al dente, about 9–10 minutes. Drain, rinse with cool water, and lay flat on a baking sheet to prevent sticking. Set aside.
Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 375°F (190°C). Spread 3/4 cup of the marinara sauce evenly across the bottom of a 9x13-inch baking dish.
Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine the shredded chicken, ricotta, 1 cup of the mozzarella, Parmesan, egg, garlic, Italian seasoning, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Stir until thoroughly mixed.
Fill the shells. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of the chicken-ricotta mixture into each cooked shell. Arrange filled shells in a single layer in the prepared baking dish, open side up.
Top and cover. Spoon the remaining marinara sauce over the stuffed shells. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup mozzarella evenly over the top. Cover the dish tightly with aluminum foil.
Bake covered. Bake covered for 25 minutes, until the sauce is bubbling and the shells are heated through.
Uncover and finish. Remove the foil and bake an additional 10–15 minutes, until the cheese on top is melted and lightly golden.
Rest and serve. Let the dish rest for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Ricotta Stuffed Shells — The Recipe That Tasted Like Home