Zucchini Roll-Ups

They came home on March 2nd. I carried Owen through the apartment door first and then Ryan brought Nora, and we stood in the living room holding them and I sat down on the couch and held them both at the same time and cried the kind of tears that mean something survived. Not the scared tears. Not the tired tears. The other kind. Owen made a sound like a small surprised person and Nora wrinkled her face at the light and Ryan said, very quietly, there they are, and that was exactly right, that was exactly the right thing to say.

My birthday is March 3rd. I turn twenty-eight. Last year I turned twenty-seven in my classroom with cupcakes one of my students brought. This year I turned twenty-eight on a couch with a baby on each side of me while Ryan made coffee and Patty was in the kitchen reheating mushroom soup she had left in our refrigerator. Steve came over and stood in the doorway looking at his grandchildren with an expression he is probably not aware he is making. Babcia Rose sent golabki with him, a full tray, because she knew I would need them and also because that is the only language of love she fully trusts.

The freezer meals I made before they were born have been exactly what I needed them to be. Each labeled container is a version of myself from six weeks ago who knew, even in the waiting, that this moment would come. I have heated three of them already and eaten them standing at the kitchen counter while listening to the monitor in the other room with one ear. This is my cooking life now. This is fine. This is good.

I am twenty-eight years old and I have two children and a husband who makes coffee in the morning when I need it and a mother who stocks my refrigerator without being asked and a grandmother who sends golabki when words are not enough. Three weeks in the NICU and we are home. We are all home. The apartment is exactly the same and also completely different, which is exactly right, which is how it should be.

Babcia Rose didn’t send golabki because she had the words—she sent them because rolled-up, filled things are how she says I am here and you are not alone, and that is a language I have been learning to speak myself. These Zucchini Roll-Ups are my version of that: something I can make ahead, tuck into the freezer, and pull out on the nights when Owen and Nora need everything I have and dinner still has to happen anyway. They’re not golabki, but they carry the same logic—wrap something good inside something tender, and hand it to the people you love.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4 (12 roll-ups)

Ingredients

3 medium zucchini, sliced lengthwise into 1/4-inch planks (about 12 slices)
1 cup ricotta cheese
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella, divided
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
1 large egg
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 cup marinara sauce
1 tablespoon olive oil
Fresh basil for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Prep the zucchini. Preheat oven to 400°F. Brush zucchini planks lightly with olive oil and arrange on a baking sheet. Roast for 8–10 minutes until just pliable but not fully cooked. Let cool slightly.
Make the filling. In a bowl, stir together ricotta, 1/4 cup mozzarella, Parmesan, egg, garlic, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper until well combined.
Assemble the roll-ups. Spread about 2 tablespoons of the ricotta filling onto each zucchini plank. Roll up firmly from one end and place seam-side down in a baking dish.
Add the sauce. Pour marinara sauce evenly over the roll-ups. Sprinkle the remaining 1/4 cup mozzarella over the top.
Bake. Bake uncovered at 400°F for 20–25 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbling and the roll-ups are heated through. Garnish with fresh basil if desired and serve immediately.
To freeze. Assemble through step 4 without baking. Cover tightly with foil and freeze for up to 3 months. Bake from frozen at 375°F for 45–50 minutes, removing foil for the last 10 minutes.

Nutrition (per serving)

Zucchini Roll-Ups — Babcia Rose Taught Me That Love Comes Rolled Up and Ready