Crowd-Pleasing Ravioli Nachos -- When the Freezer Bags Are Stacked and the Week Is Done

I batch-prepped on Sunday afternoon and finished early because Brandon now operates the vacuum sealer, which is a development I am still adjusting to. The week was a spring week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan, 19, is at BYU studying international development. He still cooks chicken adobo for me when he comes home for Sunday dinner. Olivia is 18, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason is 15, finishing high school, with calluses on his hands and a plan that does not yet have words. Lily is 13, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 11, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

The recipe of the week was enchilada casserole, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. I labeled every bag — meal, date, reheating instructions, servings — because future-me is the woman I am writing for, and future-me is tired. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

Brandon and I sat at the kitchen island on Thursday night and did not talk much, and the not-talking was a language we built in therapy and have refused to unlearn. We have been married a long time. The arithmetic of it is the arithmetic of my whole life. There were years we missed each other in the same room, and there are years we find each other in the silences, and this is one of the latter, and I am old enough now to know that the latter is the achievement and the former was the cost.

Twenty-eight bags. Labeled. Dated. Stacked. The week, in the only currency that matters in this house.

We had ravioli nachos on Friday night, which is the kind of meal that sounds like something a teenager invented and turns out to be exactly what you want after a week like this one. Noah did, in fact, request it—loudly, in front of company—and I decided that a kid who makes the whole room laugh has earned the right to name dinner. It layers together in a single pan, feeds a crowd without complaint, and reheats without apology, which means it is already speaking my language. I added it to the printed rotation the same night.

Crowd-Pleasing Ravioli Nachos

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 (25 oz) package frozen cheese ravioli
• 1 lb ground beef
• 1 (15 oz) can black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 (10 oz) can diced tomatoes with green chiles (such as Ro-Tel), undrained
• 1 (15 oz) can tomato sauce
• 1 teaspoon chili powder
• 1/2 teaspoon cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 2 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese
• 1/2 cup sliced black olives
• 1/4 cup sliced pickled jalapenos (optional)
• Sour cream, salsa, and chopped fresh cilantro for serving

Instructions

1. Cook the ravioli. Boil the frozen ravioli in a large pot of salted water according to package directions, usually 4–5 minutes. Drain and set aside.
2. Brown the beef. In a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat, cook the ground beef, breaking it up as it cooks, until no longer pink, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
3. Build the sauce. Stir in the black beans, diced tomatoes with chiles, tomato sauce, chili powder, cumin, garlic powder, and onion powder. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer over medium heat for 5 minutes until slightly thickened.
4. Layer the nachos. Preheat oven to 400°F. Spread the cooked ravioli in a single layer over the meat sauce in the skillet, pressing gently so they nestle into the sauce. Sprinkle the shredded cheese evenly over the top. Scatter the black olives and jalapenos over the cheese.
5. Bake. Transfer the skillet to the oven and bake uncovered for 12–15 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbling and the edges are lightly golden.
6. Serve. Remove from the oven and let rest for 5 minutes. Top with sour cream, salsa, and fresh cilantro at the table. Serve directly from the skillet.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 26g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 820mg