Skillet Taco Pasta Shells

I went to the grocery store by myself for the first time since September. Aldi on 95th Street, the one with the shopping carts you have to put a quarter into, which is either a brilliant system or a judgment on the kind of person who steals grocery carts, depending on your outlook. I hadn't been inside a store in two months. Mom has been doing all the shopping. But Thursday I woke up and thought: I want to make something specific. Not just whatever's in the fridge. Something I choose. So I drove to Aldi and I got ground beef and onion and egg noodles and cream of mushroom soup and frozen peas and shredded cheddar, and I came home and I made a hamburger casserole.

Mom's recipe. The one she made every other Tuesday when we were kids because it was cheap and it fed five people and nobody complained, which in a house with Matt and Kristin and me was a statistical miracle. You brown the beef with the onion, mix in the soup and the peas, layer it with cooked noodles, top it with cheese, bake at 350 for twenty-five minutes. Total cost: maybe six dollars. It is not beautiful food. It is not the kind of food that anyone photographs. It is the kind of food that says: someone in this house is trying. I am trying.

Mom came home from errands and saw the casserole cooling on the stove and didn't say anything for a long moment. Then she said, "You went to the store?" I said yes. She said, "Good." Then she set the table. That's Patty Kowalczyk. She doesn't make a speech. She sets the table.

I called Matt on Sunday. He's in Springfield, coaching, living his uncomplicated life with Danielle and the kids. Jake is seven and obsessed with dinosaurs. Lily is four and obsessed with Matt, which is how four-year-olds work. Matt said, "How you doing, kid?" I said, "Better." He said, "You coming for Thanksgiving?" I said, "We're doing it here, you're coming to us." He said, "Deal." Matt doesn't push. Matt has never pushed. He just shows up with a six-pack and his easy laugh and makes everything feel ten degrees less heavy.

Dr. Perkins said something this week that I keep turning over: "Grief doesn't have a timeline, but your life does." She means January. She means NIU. She means I have to start thinking about going back. I'm not ready. But I drove to a grocery store and I made a casserole from a recipe I keep in my head because I've watched my mother make it a hundred times, and that has to count for something. Small steps. Small casseroles. Same thing.

The casserole I made that Thursday is the one I keep in my head — Mom’s version, no written recipe needed. But the spirit of it, ground beef and noodles and something creamy and something melted on top, that’s a formula worth coming back to, and this skillet taco pasta shells recipe lives in exactly that same territory: cheap, filling, one pan, the kind of thing you make when you want to prove to yourself that you can still feed people. If you’re looking for the dish that matches the feeling of that afternoon — purposeful, a little tired, quietly proud — this is it.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef (80/20)
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 packet (1 oz) taco seasoning
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1 can (10 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles (such as Ro-Tel), undrained
2 cups low-sodium chicken or beef broth
8 oz medium pasta shells, uncooked
1/2 cup sour cream
1 1/2 cups shredded Mexican blend or cheddar cheese, divided
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Sliced green onions or fresh cilantro, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Brown the beef. Heat a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it apart with a spoon, until no pink remains, about 6—8 minutes. Drain excess fat, leaving about 1 teaspoon in the pan.
Soften the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook 30 seconds more until fragrant.
Season and combine. Sprinkle the taco seasoning over the beef mixture and stir to coat. Pour in both cans of diced tomatoes and the broth. Stir everything together and bring to a boil.
Cook the pasta. Add the uncooked pasta shells directly to the skillet. Stir to submerge them in the liquid, then reduce heat to medium-low. Cover and cook, stirring every few minutes to prevent sticking, until the pasta is tender and most of the liquid is absorbed, about 12—14 minutes.
Finish with cream and cheese. Remove the skillet from heat. Stir in the sour cream until fully incorporated. Fold in 1 cup of the shredded cheese. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Melt and serve. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup of cheese over the top of the skillet. Cover for 2 minutes to let it melt, or place the skillet under the broiler for 1—2 minutes for a lightly golden top. Garnish with green onions or cilantro if desired and serve directly from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Skillet Taco Pasta Shells — The Casserole That Proves You’re Still Trying