Italian Sausage Stuffed Peppers

April. The month Karen died, years from now, though I don't know that yet. (I will learn, eventually, that April is both the month of cherry blossoms and the month of goodbye, and that the two are connected in a way that is too beautiful and too cruel to be accidental.) For now, April is just April — Hana's third month, my fourth month of leave, the time when Seattle shakes off winter and remembers that it is, actually, one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

I took Hana to the International District on Saturday — our first ID trip together. I strapped her to my chest in the carrier and walked through the produce markets and the Asian grocery stores and the bakeries, narrating everything: "This is H Mart, Hana. This is where your mother buys gochugaru. These are rice cakes. This is fish sauce. This is a Korean pear — you'll eat these when you're bigger." Hana slept through all of it. She slept through the entire ID. She will come back. She will be awake next time. The narration will improve.

Dr. Yoon this week — my first therapy session in a month. I had postponed, postponed, postponed, because finding time for a one-hour session when you are the sole daytime caregiver of a twelve-week-old is like finding time for a spa day during a hurricane. But I went. I brought Hana. Dr. Yoon held Hana while I talked. It was the most surreal therapy session of my life: my therapist holding my baby while I discussed my fear of returning to Amazon. Dr. Yoon said, "Tell me about the fear." I said, "It's not fear. It's clarity. I don't want to go back. I want to be at Banchan Labs." She said, "Then the question is not about fear. The question is about logistics — can you afford to leave?" I said, "James and I are running the numbers." She said, "Run the numbers. But trust the clarity too. The clarity is data."

Jisoo's spring letter arrived — she writes about the cherry blossoms in Busan, the way they fall like snow on the streets of Haeundae, the way Jun-ho sweeps them from the balcony every morning. She asked for more photos of Hana. I send photos daily but she wants more. She wants every angle, every expression, every outfit. She said, "I missed thirty years of photos of you. I will not miss a day of Hana." The sentence is so Jisoo — direct, devastating, true. I took twelve photos of Hana on Wednesday and sent all twelve.

The recipe this week is Karen's tuna casserole — not because I was craving it, but because April made me think of Karen and thinking of Karen made me think of tuna casserole and thinking of tuna casserole made me make tuna casserole. Egg noodles, canned tuna, cream of mushroom soup, frozen peas, cheddar cheese, breadcrumbs. Bake at 350 for thirty minutes. It is not Korean food. It is not beautiful food. It is the food of my childhood, the food Karen made on Tuesday nights, the food that tastes like Bellevue and safety and being small and knowing nothing and trusting everything. I ate it at the counter. Hana slept. The casserole was exactly what I needed. The casserole is always exactly what I need in April.

Karen’s tuna casserole will always be April food for me — egg noodles and cream of mushroom soup and the particular safety of Tuesday nights in Bellevue. But when I went to re-create that feeling for this post, I wanted to offer something with the same spirit: a layered, baked, filling thing that holds together the way a good memory does. These Italian Sausage Stuffed Peppers are that — hearty and structured and warm in a way that asks nothing of you except that you sit down and eat. Hana slept. I cooked. April, as always, needed feeding.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 large bell peppers (any color), tops cut off and seeds removed
1 lb Italian sausage, casings removed (mild or hot)
1 cup cooked white or brown rice
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, drained
1/2 cup tomato sauce, plus extra for topping
1/2 cup diced yellow onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp Italian seasoning
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
2 tbsp olive oil
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish. Stand the hollowed peppers upright in the dish and set aside.
Cook the filling. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more. Add the Italian sausage and break it apart as it cooks, until browned and cooked through, about 7–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
Build the mixture. Stir in the diced tomatoes, 1/2 cup tomato sauce, cooked rice, Italian seasoning, oregano, salt, and pepper. Simmer over low heat for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is cohesive and fragrant. Remove from heat and fold in 1/2 cup of the mozzarella.
Fill the peppers. Spoon the sausage filling generously into each pepper, pressing lightly to pack. Spoon a tablespoon of additional tomato sauce over the top of each filled pepper. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup mozzarella evenly over all four.
Bake covered. Cover the baking dish tightly with foil and bake at 375°F for 30 minutes, until the peppers are tender when pierced with a fork.
Finish uncovered. Remove the foil and bake an additional 10–15 minutes, until the cheese is bubbly and lightly golden.
Rest and serve. Let the peppers rest for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with chopped fresh parsley if desired. Serve directly from the baking dish.

Nutrition (per serving)

Italian Sausage Stuffed Peppers — The Casserole That Carries the Season