Cheesy Chicken & Broccoli Stuffed Shells

My strongest culinary hill to die on — besides insisting that gravy should be a personality trait — is that Cheesy Chicken & Broccoli Stuffed Shells deserve a standing ovation, a small parade, and perhaps a moment of silence for all the sad frozen lasagnas I once loved. Also: butter matters. Always.

The Great Thanksgiving Pasta Catastrophe (and other confessions)

Once, I tried to simplify Thanksgiving by making these stuffed shells instead of turkey because “everyone likes pasta” — which, fun fact, is not a valid legal defense in family court. The shells collapsed like tiny edible tumbleweeds, Aunt Marge cried (joy? grief? both?), and the cranberry sauce stared at me from the table with judgment. I learned that day three things: 1) al dente is a lifestyle, 2) hide your rolling pin from your siblings, and 3) never announce a substitute plan ninety minutes before dinner (I know, I know — apologies to the family).

Also, Trader Joe’s mozzarella did me proud that year (bless their refrigerated aisles), whereas the bargain brand I bought at a late-night convenience store tasted like regret and what I imagine thin cardboard feels like. We move on. We forgive. We stuff more shells.

In case you’re wondering if I’ve recovered: sort of. There was a follow-up performance (a much quieter, more competent one) featuring less theatrics, more aluminum foil, and a discreetly purchased rotisserie chicken. Progress!

Before we spiral back into chaos — here’s the good stuff

ANYWAY, before I emotionally relive the entire holiday timeline and make you cry with me (tears and parmesan, please), here’s the actual recipe essence: creamy ricotta + shredded chicken + bright broccoli + melty mozzarella hiding in giant shells like little cheesy satellites. If you’re into stuffed poultry but want to keep things cozy and carbo-huggy, think of this as the pasta cousin to that ridiculously elegant cheesy garlic butter mushroom stuffed chicken you bookmarked and never made because you’re human.

Ingredient lineup (bring snacks while you shop)

• 12 jumbo pasta shells
• 1 1/2 cups cooked chicken, diced (rotisserie saves dignity)
• 1 cup steamed broccoli, chopped
• 1 cup ricotta cheese
• 1 cup mozzarella cheese, shredded (plus more for topping)
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 cup marinara sauce
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

Mini-rant: You don’t need $14 artisan ricotta from a boutique that only accepts contactless compliments. Trader Joe’s ricotta is a hero (also, Aldi has sneaky cheese steals if you’re into the thrifty thrill). If you want to splurge, go for the fancy marinara — but honestly, jarred tomato sauce and love will do most of the heavy lifting.

Kitchen math for the fearful (unit cheat-sheet)

If you start panicking at "cup" vs "gram," this tiny converter will calm you down.

Technique, but like, emotionally narrated

Okay so I don’t love step-by-step militarism — but here’s the soulful take: you preheat the oven (we’re warming hearts and metal to 375°F), you mix cheese and chicken and broccoli until it looks like a cozy snowdrift of dairy, and your hands might get messy, which is the best part because dinner should feel earned (sniff). Stuffing each shell is therapeutic (poke, plop, tuck — tiny pasta babies). Layer sauce like you’re laying soft pillows; cover with foil like a tiny burrito swaddling your creation. Bake until everything smells like "home" and then uncover so the cheese gets the dramatic golden finish it deserves.

And also: the things I learned the hard way — shells should be slightly undercooked or they fall apart like my 2017 plans; drain pasta well; don’t skimp on salt (your soul needs it). Sensory bits: watch the sauce bubble, inhale garlic and tomato and warm basil, listen for the soft sigh when you remove the foil and the kitchen erupts in steam-scented applause.

1. Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
2. In a bowl, mix the cooked chicken, steamed broccoli, ricotta cheese, half of the mozzarella, Parmesan, garlic powder, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper.
3. Stuff each jumbo shell with the chicken and broccoli mixture.
4. Spread a layer of marinara sauce in a baking dish.
5. Place the stuffed shells on top of the sauce and cover with the remaining marinara.
6. Sprinkle the leftover mozzarella cheese on top.
7. Cover with foil and bake for 25 minutes.
8. Remove the foil and bake for an additional 10-15 minutes until bubbly and golden.
9. Let cool slightly before serving.

Also real talk: if you want to feel extra proud, tuck little basil leaves on top right before serving. It makes you look like you know what you’re doing.

Why this chaotic cook keeps cooking (a small heart talk)

Food is my memory museum: canned cranberry sauce that marked a teenage riot, my grandmother’s tin that smelled like flour and forgiveness, the neighborhood potlucks where someone always brought three kinds of Jell-O (bless). Cooking stitches together who I was, who I am, and the person I nervously try to be at dinner parties. It’s tradition, therapy, and occasionally a way to apologize when you burn the dessert. Also, if you make this for someone, they’ll forgive small things — like leaving pancake batter in the sink overnight. True story: it fixed a fight once.

In case you want a gravy mood board while you oven-babysit, consider the comforting route of a classic chicken and gravy, because textures and sauces are my emotional language.

Micro-anecdote (fast and spicy)

My neighbor once swapped a plate of these for my struggling houseplant — I got a thriving philodendron, she got a casserole, and both of us got exactly what we needed. Bargain.

Frequently Asked Questions — chaotic but sincere

[q]Can I use frozen broccoli?[/q][a]Yes—steam it fully and squeeze out excess water unless you enjoy watery cheesy sadness.]/a][q]Can I swap turkey or another protein?[/q][a]Turkey? Fine, but I’ll judge you slightly if it’s dry — consider shredded rotisserie for forgiveness.]/a][q]Do I have to pre-cook the chicken?[/q][a]Yes, please. Uncooked chicken in shells will not end well unless you’re hosting a microbiology experiment.]/a][q]Can this be made ahead?[/q][a]Sort of: assemble, cover tightly, refrigerate, then bake when guests arrive. Add 10 minutes to the baking time if it’s cold from the fridge.]/a][q]How do I reheat leftovers?[/q][a]Cover with foil and reheat at 350°F until warmed through, or microwave in intervals so the cheese doesn’t sulk.]/a]

Okay, I’ll stop talking now (no promises). Make the shells. Feed someone. Smile like you’re holding basil and power. Oh and for the record, I will absolutely accept accolades, leftovers, and unsolicited cooking confessions. Also: dessert later?