Chicken & Broccoli Alfredo Stuffed Shells

My strongest culinary belief — besides the sacred holiness of brown butter — is that Chicken & Broccoli Alfredo Stuffed Shells should be declared a national holiday. Yes, a whole day where people put on stretchy pants, call their mothers, and celebrate carb-encased joy. Also: garlic. Always garlic.

How this disaster turned into dinner (true confessions from a burned casserole veteran)

I once tried to make lasagna for Thanksgiving because I read a blog that promised “effortless elegance.” The oven disagreed. There was smoke, a heroic run to the grocery store at 10 PM, and the Great Garlic Bread Mistake of 2018 (don’t ask — long story, butter everywhere). Anyway, in the rubble of that night I discovered the true hero: stuffed shells. They are forgiving. They forgive you more than my Aunt Marge forgave me for showing up with store-bought pumpkin pie (she pretended to be fine; she was not).

Also: my neighbor, who’s a Trader Joe’s convert with a solemn ritual of sampling every new cheese, once gifted me a tub of Alfredo sauce like it was a peace treaty. We made these shells and almost married the casserole. Not legally — just emotionally.

Okay, back to the recipe (before I spiral into culinary therapy)

ANYWAY, before I relive the entire saga that includes a smoke alarm solo performance, let’s talk logistics: this is creamy, cheesy, and infinitely better than a sad microwaved dinner. If you like casseroles that feel like a warm hug after a chaotic day (looking at you, post-Thanksgiving clean-up), this is your entrée. Also, if you’re here because you made the cheesy mushroom stuffed chicken last week and thought, “What if that had pasta?” — welcome home.

What you’ll need (but I’ll judge your cheese choices lovingly)

• 12 jumbo pasta shells
• 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded
• 1 cup broccoli florets, steamed
• 1 cup Alfredo sauce
• 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Fresh parsley for garnish (optional)

Mini-rant: yes, you can buy jarred Alfredo (I own many jars and a frosting spatula). Fancy homemade Alfredo is divine but time-consuming and emotionally taxing on weeknights. Trader Joe’s Alfredo? Solid. Aldi steals? Respectable. If you’re splurging, use a freshly grated Parm — it will win you silent nods from strangers.

Cooking Unit Converter (because ounces and grams are enemies sometimes)

If your brain defaults to tablespoons and panic, this converter will help translate nonsense into actionable measurements.

Technique, but make it chaotic and comforting (what I learned the hard way)

Okay, I do not like rigid rules — I like suggestions with attitude. Here’s the deal: boil shells until al dente (not mush cos that’s sad), mix fluffy shredded chicken with broccoli and sauce until it looks like creamy green heaven, stuff, sprinkle cheese, bake. That’s it. Lessons: don’t overfill shells (they explode like tiny cheesy moons), drain pasta well (soggy surfaces = tears), and if your sauce seems shy, pour a little more in the dish — nobody ever complained about extra saucy shells.

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C).
2. Cook the jumbo pasta shells according to package instructions; drain and set aside.
3. In a bowl, mix the shredded chicken, steamed broccoli, Alfredo sauce, mozzarella cheese, and season with salt and pepper.
4. Stuff each pasta shell with the chicken and broccoli mixture.
5. Place the stuffed shells in a baking dish.
6. Pour any remaining Alfredo sauce over the shells and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.
7. Bake in the preheated oven for 25-30 minutes or until heated through and cheese is bubbly.
8. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired and serve.

Also: if you’re curious how this pairs with gravies or want an alternate chicken vibe, I once attempted to hybridize this with the chicken and gravy energy and it was… boldly suburban and comforting.

Why this matters to me (emotional food confession)

Food is memory. The first time I learned to grate cheese properly I was seven and determined to help with Thanksgiving — my fingers still remember that ritual. Cooking is how I hold family together (and how I apologize without using words when I accidentally break heirloom plates). This dish is comfort that remembers you: creamy, forgiving, and loud in the best way.

A micro-anecdote (tiny, chaotic, true)

Last week I fed these to a crowd of teenagers and one toddler who rejected peas but inhaled a shell like a vacuum. I consider that a Michelin-starred endorsement in my house.

Frequently Asked Questions (rapid-fire, slightly dramatic)

[q]Can I use rotisserie chicken instead of cooking my own?[/q][a]Yes, and bless rotisserie chicken — it’s the unsung hero of weeknight dinners. Use it shredded and dramatic-looking.[q]Can I swap broccoli for spinach?[/q][a]Totally. Spinach is less crunchy but more sneaky-vegetable; if it’s refrigerated wilted spinach, squeeze excess water or your shells will be soggy and sad.[q]Is there a dairy-free version that doesn’t taste like cardboard?[/q][a]There are decent vegan Alfredo sauces now (store-bought or cashew-based). It won’t be identical but it will comfort your soul and your lactose-intolerant cousin.[q]Can I freeze these?[/q][a]Yes! Freeze before baking, cover tightly, and bake from frozen adding extra 10–15 minutes. Label it like it’s a time capsule: “Future Emergency Dinner.”[q]Will my kids eat this?[/q][a]Depends on your kids’ political alignment, but generally yes — cheese solves most diplomatic crises in my house.

Okay I’ll stop rambling now. Make these shells, invite someone, or don’t — eat half the pan in a blanket fort like a grown child. Either way, honor the Alfredo spirit and always keep extra Parmesan on standby.