Rich Baked Spaghetti

June 2021. Memphis summer, 62 years old, and the heat wraps around Orange Mound like a wet blanket that nobody asked for but everybody wears because that is the deal you make when you live in the South. The smoker calls louder in summer — something about the heat amplifying the smoke, the way humidity amplifies everything in Memphis — and I answer, because answering is what pitmasters do.

Mama in Whitehaven, navigating her days between clarity and fog, still sharp enough to critique my cooking and still loving enough to eat it anyway.

Comfort food this week: a big pot of collard greens with smoked turkey neck, simmered for three hours until the greens were dark and silky and the pot liquor was a treasure. The kitchen smelled like Mama's kitchen in the shotgun house, and I stood at the stove and stirred and thought about hands — her hands, small and strong, teaching mine everything they know about turning humble ingredients into something that feeds not just the body but the soul.

I sat in the lawn chair next to Uncle Clyde's smoker as the dark came on, and I thought about what I always think about: the chain. From Clyde to me. From me to Trey, maybe, or Jerome, or whoever comes next with the patience and the hands and the willingness to stand next to a fire at three in the morning and wait for something good to happen. The chain doesn't break. The fire doesn't stop. And I am here, 62 years old, in a lawn chair in Orange Mound, Memphis, Tennessee, watching the smoke rise, and the rising is the living, and the living is the gift.

Collard greens and smoked turkey neck will always be the dish that takes me back to Mama’s kitchen in Whitehaven, but when I need something that stretches across a whole table of people — when I need to feed Jerome and Trey and whoever else shows up at the back door with hungry eyes — I reach for this rich baked spaghetti. There’s something about a baked pasta dish, layered up and pulled hot from the oven, that carries the same weight as anything coming off Uncle Clyde’s smoker: it’s patient, it’s generous, and it doesn’t leave anybody at the table wanting. That’s the whole point, really — the chain holds when the food is good.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

12 oz spaghetti
1 lb ground beef (80/20)
1 lb ground Italian sausage
1 jar (24 oz) marinara sauce
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, drained
1 tsp Italian seasoning
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp onion powder
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 large eggs
1/4 cup whole milk
2 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1 cup ricotta cheese

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
Cook the pasta. Boil spaghetti in well-salted water according to package directions until just al dente — it will continue cooking in the oven. Drain and set aside.
Brown the meat. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, cook the ground beef and Italian sausage together, breaking it up as it browns, about 8–10 minutes. Drain excess fat.
Build the sauce. Stir the marinara, diced tomatoes, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, onion powder, and red pepper flakes into the meat. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer on low for 5 minutes to let the flavors come together.
Mix the spaghetti base. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, and melted butter. Add the drained spaghetti and toss to coat evenly. Stir in 1/2 cup mozzarella and 1/4 cup Parmesan.
Layer the dish. Spread the spaghetti mixture evenly into the prepared baking dish. Dollop the ricotta cheese in spoonfuls across the top of the pasta layer. Spoon the meat sauce evenly over everything.
Top with cheese. Sprinkle the remaining 1 1/2 cups mozzarella and 1/4 cup Parmesan evenly over the top.
Bake. Cover the dish tightly with foil and bake for 25 minutes. Remove the foil and bake an additional 15–20 minutes, until the cheese is golden and bubbling at the edges.
Rest and serve. Let the baked spaghetti rest for 10 minutes before cutting into portions. Serve hot, straight from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Rich Baked Spaghetti — The Kind of Dish That Feeds the Chain